


Working Class Heroes

by DarkeAngelus



Category: Marvel 616, X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon Pairing, Character Death, Crime Family, Drug Abuse, Explicit Language, Friendship/Love, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Prostitution, Slash, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 105,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1251625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeAngelus/pseuds/DarkeAngelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the break-up of X-Force, Rictor and Shatterstar travel to Mexico to try and dismantle the huge gun trafficking empire that Ric's relatives have created. It proves to be an intimidating and personal struggle for them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> This multi-chapter fic immediately follows my other story "A Year in Review". You don't HAVE to read it (but it would probably make more sense if you did. Just sayin').

Barrelling along the sheer mountain roads carved into the Transvolcanic Belt known to Mexican locals as Sierra Nevada, Rictor struggled with negotiating the jeep along the sharp switchbacks and keeping an eye on his partner at the same time. Shatterstar was standing up in the back, somehow managing to keep his balance and keep his binoculars trained on their target. In the valley far below them was a convoy that consisted of a jeep loaded with several men carrying various assault rifles, an old army truck with a canvas-covered back end, followed by another jeep filled with men carrying the same protective compliment.  _“[Which relative did you say this one was?]”_ Star asked in Cadre. 

“Geraldo,” Ric said, rounding a blind corner and cursing when he saw an oncoming truck that was taking up both lanes. The two vehicles squeaked by with just a micro-millimeter of rust separating them. Julio whirled around in his seat and blasted the other driver with furious Spanish, brandishing an erect middle finger. The truck driver did the same. 

Star endured the exchange patiently and then asked, _“[What does he look like?]”_  

 _“[He has a scar on his left temple that goes up into his hair line, giving it a white streak. His men call him the Silver Fox.]”_  

“Bai. _[I see him. He’s in the jeep on the end.]”_ That was all Star cared about; relatives of Julio, who were maimed but permitted to live. The rest fell to his blades. In pieces, usually. 

 _“[Judging by the map, they’re headed for Limon. That’s the only town with a decent population,]”_ Ric said, glancing at the map laid out on the passenger seat and weighted down with rocks. _“[This shortcut should get us there first-]_ Whoa!” Ric looked up and corrected sharply before his right front tire hit a dip that would have catapulted them over the edge of a sharp drop-off. “If I don’t fucking kill us first!” 

“Do you want me to drive?” 

“Last vehicle we were in, you ripped out the transmission when you tried to put it into drive. The one before that, you drove your foot through the floor when you stomped down on the brake. The one before _that_ -“ 

“I can’t help that your earth vehicles are not crafted for my strength,” the alien told him haughtily. “The ones we’ve encountered in Mexico appear in even worse shape than the ones in America.” 

“Well, if Cable hadn’t set us up money-wise, we’d both be on bicycles peddling our asses up this mountain right now. So leave the driving to me. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Star crouched low in the back seat, considering the view. They had the canopy off the jeep and the wind was whipping his ponytail back. Long days under the Mexican sun had turned his red hair a strawberry blond. He was still pale as hell though, his healing factor repelling any chance at a tan. Julio was getting positively swarthy and his cheeks were dark with several days of untended stubble. He haired up fast, unlike Star who was trying (unsuccessfully) to grow a goatee. On their rare downtimes, the Mexican teased him mercilessly about it. 

“So, I take it the plan’s the usual?” Ric grumbled. 

“You stay out of sight while I battle the foes? _Codlista_.” 

“I’m getting really sick of this hunting and hiding bullshit. I want to help, too.” 

“You are.” 

“Chauffeuring you to the battle site and helping dress your wounds when it’s over isn’t what I mean, Star, and you damn well know it. My uncles are wising up that their caravans are getting attacked and they’re beefing up security to the drop-offs. How many guys did you count down there?” 

At first, Star debated not answering and then said, “Eight.” 

“Eight and all armed to the teeth. And who knows how many are in the truck? You got shot twice the last time-“ 

“I healed-“ 

“You got shot twice,” Ric repeated. “Because not even you can outrun a bullet.” 

“I’ll admit I let my concentration lapse. It’s been awhile since I fought in such close quarters against such crude weapons. My time with X-Force spoiled me to what we are now up against. I have to remember to fall back on my arena training.” 

“Not Cadre?” 

“The Cadre were about subterfuge and covert operations. Most of my arena tourneys were melee combat against multiple foes with different weapons. Utilizing that experience serves me best if I'm to be successful here.” 

That brought them right back around to the point Ric had been trying to make in the first place. “I want to help you. I’ve stayed hidden long enough.” 

They had been using this hit-and-run attack methodology for three months now. Ric favored a coat that had a layer of Kevlar in the lining, but he hated wearing the thing during the day when the temperature hit three digits. Star didn’t wear his at all; choosing a hunting vest, cargo pants and hiking boots. Ric had to admit that the alien looked sexy as hell in the get-up, but it didn’t offer shit in terms of protection. Star made the convincing argument that the armored gear slowed him down and it seemed he had been right, up until eight days ago when unexpected reinforcements had ambushed his attack on a gun drop-off and managed to nail him twice. One bullet punched through his calf; a clean shot that healed quickly. The other had lodged in his right lung and he had spent several hours trying to cough the damn thing up. All Ric could do was fret by his side until Star finally spat out the bullet along with a mouthful of congealed blood. Once it was out of his system, he healed just fine but for Julio, those three hours of hearing his best friend and lover hack away like a dying dog had been the longest ones of his life. Now he was a nervous wreck at the prospect of it all happening again. Or worse. 

“Your relatives all know the nature of your power, Julio,” Star reasoned, inspecting his swords before placing them into his X-shaped scabbard and strapping it securely to his back. He tied a red bandana around his neck and pulled it up over his forehead to keep the hair out of his eyes. “Any kind of tremor will betray your involvement.” 

“I don’t need to use my power, you know!” the Mexican snapped. They were heading down the mountain towards the village of Limon by a muddy back road. “I’ve known how to shoot a gun since I was a kid and I’m a dead shot.” 

“Interesting terminology. Have you ever actually killed anyone?” The alien was staring fixedly at the rear-view mirror and their eyes met; light blue against dark brown. “I’m not talking about someone accidentally crushed by a toppled building. I’m talking about-“ 

“I know what you’re talking about and the answer is no.” He could hit a bull’s eye of a paper target just fine, but could he get a man’s head in the rifle’s scope and pull the trigger? That was the real question. 

“Leave the killing to me,” Star dismissed. “I’m bred not to dwell on the morality of such actions. I think it would seriously bother you if you took a life in such a cold manner.” 

“I’m not a pussy!” Ric snapped. 

Star looked at him again. “You have the mutant power to potentially twist this continent on its axis. I would never make the accusation that you are weak. But you _are_ human. You should not be involved in this type of carnage. I believe it would change you if you started to kill. Let me shoulder that burden.” 

They had reached the first small hovel that marked the outer limits of the village. Ric found a trail wide enough to park the jeep and pulled into it until they were out of sight from the main road. He twisted around in his seat to look at his partner. “Star, I’m scared shitless you’re gonna get yourself killed.” 

For the last three months it was always the same argument and, for the last three months, the warrior's response was more or less the same: “I've survived longer than even Mojo ever expected I would. Each day that I live is-" 

"Yeah, yeah. 'It's a gift.' I get it." 

"It's more than just _that_. I'm happy to spend them doing what I enjoy best.” 

“Fighting.” Julio concluded with a frown. 

“No, _vehjka_. Spending my time with you,” Star said, actually managing to surprise him this time. While he mulled it over, the alien leaned over the seat and kissed him before jumping out of the jeep. “Your cousin Geraldo, the Silver Fox. Are you two close?” 

Ric was still marveling over the alien’s words and snapped out of his shock to respond. “No, I’ve never actually met him.” Star offered only a mute nod at that, and it prompted the question: “Why?” 

“He is our last lead. I will need to acquire new information.” 

Ric’s face immediately became grim. It meant that Star was going to have to torture the man. He’d done it before to gain the intel they were currently operating on. Apparently, it was another little skill set he had picked up from the Cadre and he was remarkably close-mouthed about the methods he used, not that the Hispanic really wanted to know. 

Star had noticed the expression on his lover’s face. “... Julio?” 

“Do whatever you have to,” were the words that came from the Mexican’s mouth, even if they made him cringe inside and twist his guts. Him giving the command at least made him an accessory to what was to come, instead of following along blindly and letting Star shoulder all the blame on his own. That wasn’t fair. He had to assume _some_ responsibility. 

Star dipped his head in an odd salute. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry.” Just like that, he was gone; slipping into the vibrant green undergrowth like a ghost, not making the slightest sound as he headed towards the village to confront Geraldo and his forces. 

Sitting in the passenger seat and gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands, Ric played it all in his head how it would go down: There would be a long period of nerve-wracking silence as Star slowly circled the party, evaluating the terrain for bobby-traps or snipers before deciding when to spring into action. There would be gunfire, shouting, the sound of metal ringing on metal as Star’s swords cleaving through the automatic weapons like they were made of butter. There might be an odd, piercing scream of agony before the victim was put out of his misery. Then would come the low, disturbing buzz followed by an explosion that meant the cache of weapons had been blown to pieces by Star’s shockwave power. Soon after, the alien would return covered in blood that wasn’t his own, exhausted, and smugly satisfied; looking like an addict that had gotten his fix. He usually fell asleep in the backseat while Ric hauled ass out of the territory. They laid low and camped for a few days, strategized, fucked, and then moved onto the next target and the cycle would start all over again. 

The pace was starting to wear Ric out, truth to tell. It seemed to have the opposite effect on Shatterstar. He was excited to experience life-or-death combat again as if he were back in the slaughter games and, despite his assurances to Ric on the contrary, he was getting more and more reckless with each assault. The day he got shot, he had been wearing headphones and listening to Metallica’s “Whiplash” in a continuous loop because he wanted to fight to a soundtrack again, just like in the arena battles back on Mojoworld. Ric had been absolutely furious. He crushed the alien’s mp3 player in one vibrating fist and dropped the pieces into Star’s lap. “No more of that bullshit, you hear me?” He had really been raging at that point, almost screaming. “You concentrate on what you’re doing and play it safe or I’ll call Cable and we’ll go to Muir Island. _Understand?!_ ” 

Star only offered a muttered, “Codlista,” unable to look Ric in the eye like a chastened child. The threat of leaving Mexico to go to the mutant refuge seemed to be an effective tactic to rein him in (only Julio knew they were way too deep into things here to be able to just pack up and leave), and he seemed calmer and more in control this time around. How he would behave once he started waving those swords around again was a completely different matter. 

It warred on Ric’s nerves until he finally grumbled, “Fuck it,” and started pulling on his protective gear. He opened up a compartment hidden under the back seat and hauled out a blaster Cable had given them from his vast arsenal. Pulling up the bandana around his neck over the lower half of his face sealed the deal. He charged into the jungle after his best friend. 

Around the village of Limon, Shatterstar found two tripwires attached to crudely-made IEDs that probably would have done some damage if they hadn’t been so glaringly obvious. He disabled them with ease and then climbed a tree that offered a decent viewpoint where three vehicles had parked in what marked the small village square: two jeeps and one re-serviced army truck that was full of AK-47s, the chief weapon of trade that the Richter Cartel sold with impunity. The number of armed men was up to ten now and it was clear that they were on their guard. They began spreading out as the man identified as Geraldo "the Silver Fox" Lesaras and someone in the village began negotiations. 

Star didn’t move into action until one of the armed men went into the woods near the tree he was hiding in and decided to take a piss against the trunk. The warrior silently pulled out his single bladed sword and tucked it under his arm as he dropped from his cover. It went through the man’s head and down into his chest cavity, killing him instantly. Star dragged him a short distance away and noticed that he was wearing a headset as he pulled his sword free. He put it on. 

 _“-four, check in. Copy back?”_ said a gruff voice in his ear. _“Four, acknowledge. Over.”_  

Star reasoned he had dispatched the fourth mercenary. He spoke into the mike, _“Four here. All’s good. Over.”_  

There was a moment of silence. The alien’s Spanish was flawless, but his Mojoverse accent had a bad habit of giving the words an odd twist. _“You okay, Ricky? You’re sounding awful strange. Over.”_  

 _“Fuckin allergies. Over.”_

There was a blast of laughter in his ear, then; _“I copy that. Five, check in. Over-“_ meaning that Star was safe for now. 

He dispatched two more men and it wasn’t until he was on his fourth, trying to bluff his way with the mike, that the guy on the other end began cluing in that something was seriously wrong. _“Who the hell is this?!”_ he shouted into Star’s ear. 

 _"Dlo ma schamik hez,"_ the alien said distinctly and then threw the headpiece to the ground and stomped on it. Beside the caravan, the call went out for everybody to come back on the double. Star pulled out both swords with a feral grin and twirled them in his hands with deft skill. The necessity of Cadre tactics were finally over. Now it was time for the main event. _Oh, how the Audience would love this sort of show!_ The alien could almost hear the roaring sound of applause and cheers in his head as he leaped from the woods and landed on the top of the truck. He made a cross-bladed salute to a Master who wasn’t there and burst into action just as the automatic weapons began their staccato report. Several were armed with M16s and AK-47s, the rest with snout-nosed Uzi 9mms. Star went for the weapons first, slicing them easily with the otherworldly metal of his blades and then focused on the men as they began to scatter. Without their guns, they were poor combatants and the warrior was absolutely merciless, hacking them to pieces and grinning while he did it. His superhuman senses always seemed intensified when his adrenaline was running as high as it was right now; the scent of all of the blood, the feel of his blades as they slashed, hearing the sounds of pain and carnage, seeing the results of his handiwork. The Godhead would be so pleased at what He had designed: The perfect killing-machine. 

Five men fell quickly to the twisting, whirling dervish that was Shatterstar. In mere minutes, there was only one mercenary left. As he tried to crawl away to safety (he was missing the leg below his right knee), Star drove his sword down through the middle of the man’s back, severing the spinal cord and slicing through the heart. Star crouched down and watched the man’s convulsive shudders with about the same interest as a spider watching a fly flailing in its web. The bright, terrified light left the man’s wide eyes and then quickly became unfocused when he died. It was always the same. Star straightened with a snort of disdain and pulled his sword free and then started to turn to begin the search for Geraldo. He suddenly froze. 

Rictor was standing about ten feet away. He was holding one of the assault blasters Cable had given them. Above the bandana he wore over his nose and mouth, his eyes were huge and round in shock. 

 _“[You should not be here,]”_ Star said calmly. 

“Star... What-?” 

 _“[Speak Cadre! You never know who is listening!]”_ The alien barked. 

Julio appeared at a genuine loss for words and then his eyebrows knitted together in anger. He hefted the blaster to his shoulder, aiming at Star. For a split second, the alien thought he was the target before Ric shouted: _“[Drop!]”_  

He did so without hesitation just as the weapon fired, followed simultaneously by the report of another smaller gun. Looking around, Star saw that Geraldo had come up behind him while his guard had been down, intent on shooting him in the back. Julio’s blaster nailed him in the upper shoulder, knocking him off his feet. The alien rushed over to Ric's cousin and impaled him through the hand, driving the blade deep into the ground and kicking the gun a safe distance away. He left the gun dealer in that state as he ran over to Julio who was sitting on the ground, looking dazed. _“[Are you alright? Did he shoot you? Are you alright?!]”_  

“I-I don’t know-“ Julio was fingering a hole in the chest of his jacket and trying to marshal the coordination to pull down the zipper. Star did it for him and was relieved to see the bullet had been stopped by the plating in the jacket. Still, the Mexican would have one hell of a bruise on his left pec from the force of the impact. _“[You’ll be fine.]”_ He said in relief. _“[Thank you.]”_  

Rictor rubbed his chest with a wince. _“[Wouldn’t have been necessary if I hadn’t distracted you in the first place. I’m sorry. I just- I've never seen you look that way before-]”_  

 _“[We will discuss this later. I have a man to interrogate and you do not want to be here to watch me do it.]”_  

Ric had seen the look on Star’s face as he killed the struggling man in the jungle and then study him as he lay dying. There had been absolutely no trace of humanity in the alien’s actions. _“[No, I ... I don’t think I do,]”_ he admitted, struggling to get to his feet. He managed on the second try and then staggered off, dragging the blaster along beside him almost as an after thought. 

Star watched him leave with troubled eyes and then his face began to fill with hot blood as he returned to where Geraldo was writhing on the ground. He drove his other sword into the ground and pulled out a large hunting knife from the scabbard tied to his left hip. He deliberately brandished it in front of the gun dealer’s eyes. _“You hurt my friend,”_ he said in Spanish. “ _I need information from you, but first I’m going to hurt you a little bit more just out of retaliation.”_ He slapped a hand over Geraldo’s mouth and started cutting. 

He was interrupted just once by the man the gunrunner had been dealing with. The village leader was brandishing a cheap nickel-plated revolver, but when he saw what Star was doing, he immediately dropped it and held up his hands. _"Peace, man. I-I don't want no part of this action. You dig?"_  

 _"You deal with the Richter Cartel and you expect to walk away unharmed?"_ Star asked him, baring his teeth in anger. 

 _"Fuck the Richter Cartel! They can't even protect their own shipment! Soon, nobody will deal with them."_  

Star held up his hunting knife and pointed it at him. There was an eyeball embedded on the end of it. The other man paled noticeably at the sight of it. _"That's the idea. Spread the word of what's happened here. My mission is to put the Richter clan out of business. In the future, I won't just kill them and their guards. I'll execute whoever deals with them. Do you 'dig' that, vehjka? Do I start with you?"_  

 _"No, man! I-I'll do as you say! You have my word!"_  

" _Your word means nothing to me. I'll have your fekting life if you don't do what I've said. Now, walk away. While you still have legs to do it with."_  

The man didn't walk. He whirled around and sprinted back to the village, leaving Star alone to continue his grisly interrogation. It took awhile. Geraldo was one tough son-of-a-bitch. In the end, Shatterstar just proved he was tougher. 

Rictor negotiated the dense undergrowth with difficulty and by the time he made it back to the jeep he was panting from his exertions and from the heat. He also had a distinct case of the shakes that had little to do with being shot and everything to do with the blank, lifeless stare he had seen from the man he had fallen in love with. Shatterstar was reverting back to the emotionless killing machine he had been before coming to earth and finding salvation. With acute shame, Julio knew he was the one to blame for the regression. 

He shrugged out of his gear and moistened a rag and pressed it against his bruised chest while he waited for Star to come back. It would probably be awhile. The Mojoworlder was going to interrogate the Silver Fox for intel that they needed and it was going to be bloody and brutal. Ric tried to envision the tactics necessary for the task and felt his stomach roil in revolt. 

“Don’t hold it against him,” he muttered under his breath. Advice he had been given three months earlier, but had discounted it at the time. Now it was becoming almost a steady, daily mantra. "Let him do what he was made to do, don’t ask too many questions, and look away when you have to." 

 _Oh, it was hard._ Far harder than he had thought it would ever be, and he wasn't even on the front lines of it all. Star was acting as his protector, soldier, and interrogator all rolled into one and it wasn't goddamned fair. 

Not for the first time, Rictor thought back to how this had all started out... 

* * *

 


	2. Second Thoughts

 

It’s generally said that you don’t really know a person until you live with them. 

For Julio “Rictor” Richter and Gaveedra “Shatterstar” Seven, you couldn’t get tighter, more primitive quarters than a four-person tent located at a secluded camping site in the middle of a National Park. Running water was an isolated spigot located next to a basic hole-in-the-ground set of His/Her toilets that were several yards down the road. The communal bathroom/shower area was about a fifteen minute walk from their site. Their diet consisted of what they managed to burn over the fire, open from a bag, or eat raw. 

For his two years of running with the Cadre Alliance after his escape from the rule of the Spineless Ones, Star was accustomed to such rough living. He actually viewed his and Ric’s current arrangement quite favorably, but then he was designed to be versatile. 

Rictor was human and far more accustomed to modern necessities; born of a wealthy family and later shunted around various, well-funded X-locales after his nasty business with The Right. Having to share a stinking toilet or wait in line for a shower was beginning to wear on his nerves, and they were generally on a short fuse to begin with. 

When he vented, and it was often, Star listened with his customary silence until he grew bored and went off on one of his frequent training drills that involved hours of negotiating the treacherous terrain of the expansive park that would leave a Parkour professional exhausted and probably dead. Ric was never quite sure where his best friend went, but Star always returned at dusk exhausted and sometimes injured. He didn’t seem to mind the state he was in, but it was beginning to worry the Mexican quite a bit. They had been at the Chattahoochee National Park for ten days now and the level of Star’s masochism in the name of training was escalating. 

 _“As, chui fekt,”_ Ric marveled when the alien returned after a shower and joined him at the picnic table for a meal of hotdogs and potato chips. They were spending the extended time at the park so that Ric could learn to communicate in Star’s language. They would need that alien dialect if they were going to deal with Ric’s family ‘business’ in Mexico. 

The Hispanic was grasping the basics with amazing speed, it was all that Star would speak to hasten the learning process, and Ric struggled with those words now. Both of the alien’s arms were covered in faded bruises and he had a gash underneath his right eye that had probably been serious but was healing quickly. 

“[ _You looks sloppy. Where does you go to getting so bashed up?_ ]” Rictor struggled to say. 

Shatterstar made the patient corrections and spoke slowly, often using hand gestures to help convey the meaning to his words. Cadre was not a written language; it was handed down from slave to slave and changed as each added their own life experiences to the blunt vocabulary. It was almost as much a hand sign language as it was a spoken one; used extensively on missions where words would be easily picked up by the Imperial Protectorate, the enforcers of Star’s world. Ric sometimes found it easier to follow the hand gestures. “[ _I go off the trails and make my own. Sometimes I try to climb the cliffs or jump them. Sometimes I lose my hold or miss my mark_.]” 

Ric made a disapproving ‘click’ sound with his tongue; a habit he had gained from the Mojoworlder. “[ _Foolish takes many risks. Do why?_ ]” 

“[ _Because I’m bored_.]” Came the honest answer. 

“You’re what?” 

 _“Dho, meha di-“_  

“Screw the Cadre for a minute!” Ric snapped. “You’re busting yourself to pieces because it’s so hard to take a vacation? What the hell?” 

“Vacations, Spring Breaks, Holidays, Sabbath; they are all human concepts, Julio. Until I came to Earth, I never had one day off from the time I emerged from the Source. _Not one!_ ” The alien said in self-defense. “Seventeen years of uninterrupted violence and all of a sudden I had to face these odd extended downtimes on this world. I do not like it. I am not designed for it.” 

Ric tried to keep the hurt out of his voice and failed miserably as he said: “So these ten days together ... they were just a hassle to you, huh?” 

“I enjoy being here with you, but it is not battle,” the alien said in his usual blunt manner. “I'm practically aching from the inactivity. I _need_ to fight something! According to the enforcers of this preserve even those chattering vermin in the trees are off limits.” 

“Squirrels,” his companion muttered absently. Sometimes the little bastards could be a nuisance and Ric wasn’t beyond giving a tree they were nattering from a seismic shake to get them to move on. “I guess maybe we have been here too long. Do you want to pack up and leave tomorrow?” 

If the look Star passed him wasn’t enough of a clue, his affirmation of _“Bai,”_ certainly was. 

Tired and probably more injured than he would admit, the alien retired to their tent while Ric stayed behind and sat by the fire, occasionally poking the cinders with a stick, lost in thought. He didn’t want to admit it to his friend, but he was beginning to have serious doubts about going to Mexico. They were originally only going to stay camping here for a few days, maybe a week, but Ric had drawn it out to ten days on purpose as he tried to muster the courage of putting into motion what he had originally thought was a good idea. 

“But it’s not,” he muttered under his breath, absently swatting away mosquitoes. “What the hell was I thinking?” 

His father had started the gunrunning business years before he had been born. When Ric was seven, Louis Alejandro Garabello Richter was murdered in cold blood right in front of his eyes. His three uncles took over the reins and, eleven years later, had turned it into a lucrative enterprise that employed the extensive family of nieces, nephews, and various cousins. The brunt of the business operated out of Guadalajara, Julio’s home city, but relatives had moved out to satellite operations all over Mexico, selling death in the form of AK-47s to various countries in Latin America. Rictor had been ashamed of this taint to his family name ever since he’d been rescued by X-Factor and later became their trainee. Mutants, it seemed, eagerly dealt with super-powered threats but not domestic ones, so he was left with no choice but to ignore the issue. When the frantic pace of his life became intermixed with cat-and-mouse/life-or-death clashes, it became a remarkably easy thing to do. He struggled with that existence for over three years. 

And then he went home and everything changed. 

The first visit was necessary because his uncle Gonzalo had been shot by a rival gun cartel and his first cousin, Omar, was in jail. By that point in time, Ric was so out of touch with his family that it had been Shatterstar who alerted him to the incident. The alien had been watching the Mexican channels to learn the language and managed to DVR the news segment. The home visit had gone about as bad as Rictor expected it would. He had been all but verbally disowned. He was pretty sure he’d never go back after that disaster but, less than three months later, he was standing in the Don Miguel Hidalgo & Costilla Airport terminal nervous as hell and sweating his balls off. X-Force had moved into Xavier’s mansion and Cable, trying to emulate the X-Men, had made it clear that a telepathic group-link was going to become the new team standard. By that point, Ric was pretty sure he was gay and had developed a raging crush on Shatterstar (a reciprocated crush, he happily discovered the night before he fled) and he sure as hell wasn’t ready for anyone else to know about it. Or-or _them_. 

He spent a month in his former father’s estate with his step-mother, two half-sisters, and his uncle Hector’s large family. It was as close to normalcy as expected but, dealing with his guilt in abandoning his team (and Star) began weighing heavily on his mind. When he went to visit his father’s grave to pay his respects, he figured that it was more to say good-bye than for any other nostalgic reason. He didn’t want to face Cable or deal with the ramifications that damned ‘rapport’ might expose, but that feeling he had abandoned his teammates, Shatterstar in particular, was really starting to get to him. It was also becoming difficult keeping a blind eye to the family business without wanting to do something about it. 

He was accompanied to the cemetery by a man named Jake Martinez, his uncle Gabriel’s trusted second-in-command. Jake had duel-citizenship with the US and had served in the Marine Corp. in a Special Forces unit for over five years before being dishonorably discharged for undisclosed reasons. He became a mercenary for some shady South American outfits before eventually hooking up with the Richter Cartel and becoming Gabe’s right-hand man. He was highly skilled, efficient, and cat-piss mean. He and Julio developed a mutual loathing for each other practically on first sight. 

Rictor stared at his father’s headstone, mentally projecting a rambling speech he might have said out loud if Martinez hadn’t been lingering nearby, and finally looked around. “Is Salvatore buried here, too? I’d like to visit the site.” 

Salvatore Desoto had been Gabriel’s lieutenant long before Martinez made his appearance. The man had been loyal and trusted in the business and Julio had liked him great deal. He had disappeared under some rather strange circumstances that nobody seemed to want to bring up. 

Except maybe for Jake. He offered the teen his patented sneer as he said, “This is a Catholic cemetery. There’s no place on its holy ground for the likes of him.” 

“What do you mean? Where’s he buried?” 

The ex-Marine smiled, exposing crooked yellow teeth. “Do you want to know how Sal died, Hooly? Do you really want to know?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I do,” Julio said, mentally preparing himself for the worst. 

Jake leaned against Ric’s father’s tombstone and pulled out a pocket knife to clean his nails. He said with absolutely no preamble: “Turns out ol’ Sal was a closet queer. When I heard the rumors, I put a tail on ‘im and sure enough, he was spotted with a whore. A male one. Can you imagine it? Christ. Gabe ordered him whacked. Problem solved.” 

Ric realized he hadn’t been prepared to hear that. Not even close. He openly gaped at the older man as he struggled to find words. “You- Uncle Gabriel had him killed just because he was gay? _Are you serious?!_ ” 

“No fags allowed in the crew, kid.” 

“But it’s okay to murder, do and deal drugs, and sell weapons. Just not cool to be... _that_.” 

“Damn straight. Maybe you can put up with seeing that bullshit among those sick gringos up north, but we don’t tolerate it down here. That old faggot still tried to deny everything even when my guy caught him red-handed. Hell, it took fifteen stabs to the bag just to get him to admit it.” 

 _Stick a knife in my balls and I’d admit to wearing a dress and liking Beiber music_ , Julio thought sickly. He leaned back against a tree and ran a hand across his face. “He worked for my dad! He was loyal to Gabriel! Why didn’t you just run him off?” 

Jake looked at him as if he had asked the stupidest question in existence. “He knew way too much about the organization to ever let him loose, Hooly. You of all people should know that. Hell, if you hadn’t been a mutie-“ 

Rictor raised his head and glared at him. “What about it?” 

Jake crossed his arms and easily matched the younger man’s outraged stare. “You’re the only son of Louis. You’re the heir to the throne, or at least you _should_ be. Those fucking Yankees kidnapped you and then the local freak force adopted you. Your uncles took over the business instead. Eventually, they figured it’d be best if you just stayed put in America. You being a mutant _and_ running the cartel?” He snorted and shook his head. “Fuck. You might as well be...” 

“Gay?” 

“That’s even worse but, yeah, you being what you are makes you a complication. Me personally? I don’t like complications, but you’re _La Familia Richter_ so you have certain privileges that include your uncles’ protection. If I had my way I’d just as soon put you down.” 

Rictor had to at least give the prick points for honesty. “Like you did with Salvatore?” 

“Naw. For you I’d make it quick. That old queer got his cock cut off and stuffed down his throat before a bullet to the head took him out. His carcass was thrown out into the desert for the vultures to pick over. I hear it took a while. Even the scavengers are picky about what kind of shit they-“ He broke off when he felt the ground beneath his combat boots trembling. Julio hadn’t moved but the merc could have sworn there was a subtle green aura clinging to the teenager’s smaller frame. “That you doing this, Hooley?” His voice was casual but his right hand began straying to the holster concealed under his jacket. 

Ric had been barely aware of losing his grip on his power and tried to rein it in. It took more effort than it should have. The last time he had felt anything to what he was feeling right now was when he had laid eyes on Cameron Hodge standing in the X-Factor building as if the previous six months of inflicting torture on him had never happened; a suffocating mixture of rage and terror. He felt his eyes burning and fought the tears back. “You fucker,” he spat at Jake. They were the only words he could articulate. “You-you sick motherfucker!” 

“Aw. Sweet on Sal, huh? Better watch it, kid, or I might just start wondering about you. Being a freak’s already bought you one strike.” There was a crafty glint to the merc’s amber eyes that Rictor recognized from a hundred past battles; he was purposely goading him. If things escalated any further, the cemetery would be reduced to a sink hole and both of them would probably be dead (Jake was renowned for being a fast draw and a dead shot). There was absolutely no trace of fear in his face or body posture, just steely resolve. 

Julio had no choice but to back down first because it was Jake who had the upper hand here. Ric was too conflicted to even think straight at this point. With a frustrated shout, he whirled on his heel and marched back to the SUV, his fists clenched at his sides while Jake sniggered behind him. Back at Hector’s mansion, he mulled over making arrangements with the airport for a flight back to New York but he didn’t want it to look to Jake like he was running away. When he got the call from Theresa that Shatterstar had been attacked and was seriously injured, that ended the debate right then and there. He went back to the States the next flight out. Jake made it a point to drive him to the airport. 

“Don’t come back, Hooley,” were his only words at the departure gate. 

When the mess with the Gamesmaster (and Ben Russell) was resolved, Ric confided most of that exchange to Star. It had been eating him up and he needed to get it off his chest. The alien was surprisingly supportive. Most of the members of X-Force viewed the warrior as intelligent, blood-thirsty, and quick to temper; but not much more beyond that. Rictor was privileged to get insight into deeper, more human emotions that a decade of constant violent combat had caused Star to repress. He could be compassionate and funny and vulnerable and- 

And Rictor found his crush becoming something deeper than he had ever felt before. It made him desperately examine his past relationships. 

He had felt puppy love for Boom Boom when they had both been trainees with X-Factor. As a New Mutant, he developed a crush on Rahne that he had thought reciprocated until she rebuffed him at Genosha (and he had risked his life going back to that hell-hole to save her!). All three of them had just been kids at the time; enveloped in the turmoil of hormones and their own chaotic lifestyles. Ric didn’t know why his interest in that gender waned as he grew and matured, only that it had. Breasts no longer interested him the way a well-developed six-pack now did. And there were few who could boast a physique as close to perfection as Shatterstar’s was. Ric practically had every dimple and pore committed to memory. Whenever they were apart, he found himself actually pining for Star’s return. 

He realized he was falling head over heels in love with the tall warrior and that brought on complications Ric never even thought to consider when he had first started secretly plotting his revenge on Jake Martinez and his uncles (Gabriel in particular). Sitting at the picnic table and watching the stars appear in the darkening sky, he tried to rationalize the facts. 

He was the only son of the original crime boss of the family. He was secretly gay. What would his relatives do to him if they ever found out? Ric wanted to strike out at his entire family for their illegal activities, but it was what had been done to poor Sal that really pushed his buttons. It also scared the living shit out of him. All he could think about was the fate of Salvatore: Stabbed in the nuts fifteen times then have his cock cut off and shoved into his mouth all while he had still been _alive_. 

“Ay Dios,” Julio murmured, taking his head in his hands. 

He had been all set to hit the satellite operations first, but once that action started he knew it would snowball fast. He had just turned eighteen. Star, although he looked like he was in his early twenties, was actually younger by a month or two. How could two teenagers take on an entire crime syndicate? 

The question that really pulled back his reins was: What would happen if Gonzalo, the oldest of the three brothers and head of the Cartel, found out that Ric and Star were lovers? Julio got the impression that having his dick cut off would be just the start of the torture. _And what would they do to Star-?_ The thought of his best friend (and now, so much more at this point in time) having to endure that agony was virtually inconceivable. Yes, Ric loved him -even if he couldn’t admit it out loud yet- and he sure as hell didn’t want anything to happen to him; not out of some family grudge that didn’t involve him personally. 

It left the Hispanic thinking that maybe they should have gone along with Theresa Cassidy and the others. There had been an embarrassing little episode with Roberto Dacosta before they’d split up, but Ric was reasonably sure that Bobby would have kept his mouth shut and he and Star could have continued their private affair without any of the others suspecting their relationship. He knew that Theresa and the rest of the team had been set to head up north to pick up James Proudstar, but that had been ten days ago. Where they all were now was anybody's guess. 

Maybe he and Star could go out west and seek their own adventures. Hell, even the two biker bimbos, Miranda and Lucy, had invited them along on their cross country adventure (well, they had invited Star. Ric had just been included by association). For a pair of self-identified lesbians they sure had set their sights on the redhead and hung around their campsite for the four days they stayed at the park. Miranda in particular had made it clear she was interested in a hook-up with the Mojoworlder, even proposing a threesome with her partner, but he had been oddly put off by her brazen come-ons. Once, he had told her he was married (which technically _could_ be true, although he didn't know for certain whether Windsong was alive or dead), and then he had told her he was a mutant (which was also an issue kind of up for debate). Neither had the desired affect of repelling her. It was Lucy who had asked them point-blank if they were gay. Their uncomfortable glance at each other before trying to respond had been the only answer the women really needed. They left early the next morning. Ric realized that well-rehearsed denials to those sort of accusations were going to be something they were going to have to work on. They had clearly been caught off guard by the blunt question and small wonder; they had only just started their relationship at the National Park. Their previous, clandestine rendezvous’ at Xavier's Institute hardly counted as dates. Now, here they were living together. 

It was certainly a learning curve. Ric knew he wasn't an easy person to be around. He was moody, usually depressed, and always angry about something. For all of his warrior training and savage spirit, Star was the passive one of the pair and let Ric do most of the decision-making. He was compromising and hardly ever complained all the while exuding confidence and maturity. It was only when they were intimate that Julio began to suspect just how emotionally damaged Star actually was. Ric had been too overwhelmed from the physical sensory overload to recognize it as any kind of problem - _talk about going from famine to feast!-_ but he was now beginning to see a pattern to their sex life that was beginning to concern him a little. Well, more than just a little. 

Star had been molested by Spineless Ones, the depraved rulers of his world, since he had been old enough to walk. It was deeply ingrained into his psyche that being violated was a part of his natural design. Ric got the feeling that he could do anything to Star and the alien would simply succumb to it without a word of complaint. Why? Because Rictor had made the offer of friendship first and Star had been secretly pining for someone, _anyone_ , to give him a kind word and treat him with just a modicum of respect. That made him overeager to please and he went out of his way to make sure that Julio was pleased a _lot_. Julio enjoyed the blowjobs, loved to do the fucking, but he also wanted to _be_ fucked and that was when Star usually balked. It took some coaxing before he ultimately caved, and enjoyed doing the act, but he always looked guilty afterwards; as if experiencing pleasure was some sort of forbidden thing for him. 

“Oh yeah, those Spineless pricks really screwed with his head. Sonsabitches,” Ric muttered under his breath as he looked over at the tent. 

Now, faced with the prospect of leaving tomorrow, he found he didn’t even want to think about Mexico. It would take them awhile to reach the Gulf and maybe along the way another diversion might pop up: Some rogue attack, some dimensional rift, another Apocalypse. Who knows? Stranger things happened in the course of a mutant’s life, that’s for sure. Whatever the case, they couldn’t hide out here anymore and, really, that’s what they were doing. 

“No, that’s what _I_ was doing,” he said, ashamed. By all accounts they should have been on a chartered boat and halfway across the Gulf by now. 

He started wondering what Venezuela was like this time of the year. 

With a troubled mind, he extinguished the fire and retired early himself. It was easy to negotiate around the tent because Star had cracked open a glow stick just as he did every night. It made negotiating around the close quarters of the tent easier and Star seemed to like the low, ruddy light, although he had particular color choices and for some strange reason refused to use the yellow ones. Something to do with Mojoworld he hadn’t yet confided in Ric about. The Mexican wasn’t one to pry. What little he did know about his partner’s past was damned upsetting (even more than his own conflicted childhood, which was saying a lot) and Julio resolved that if the alien wanted to talk about something, the unspoken invitation was always there for him to share it if and when he needed to. 

He undressed under the glow of lime green and laid down on the air mattress next to where Star was asleep. It was stifling inside the tent but the alien was actually bundled up under his sleeping bag, used to a warmer environment. They had them unzipped atop the air mattress and used them more for blankets, one beneath and one over them. Ric laid nude on his side and was comfortable letting his companion monopolize the blanket. He laced his fingers behind his head and watched as his best friend slept. A ghost of a smile graced his features at the sight. 

It had been a well-known fact among X-Force that Star was a chronic insomniac, only managing a few hours of sleep before roaming whatever base or safehouse they found themselves in. Nobody ever said anything about it except for Ric who didn’t exactly have a sound sleeping schedule either. 

Joining the team after that whole Weapon: Prime debacle, Ric was actually glad to be back among some familiar faces and enjoyed the base they had set up for themselves at Warpath’s abandoned reservation. It wasn’t uncommon for him to spend the night on the couch watching MTV or something exquisitely violent. More times than not, Shatterstar joined him. At that point in time, Ric was still wary of the guy just as he was around Feral. Unknowns made him nervous and put him on his guard. If Star viewed him as a threat, he never showed it. He wasn’t particularly talkative and just seemed moody. Things he and Ric had in common. 

On one night in particular, his attitude really got on Ric’s nerves and the Mexican called him out on it. “Look, mano, if this show is so damn boring then why don’t you haul your sorry ass back to bed? You’d be doing us both a favor.” 

Barely able to keep his eyes open, the alien muttered under his breath, “I can’t sleep.” 

“Huh? Speak up, dude, so I-” 

 _“I can’t fekting sleep, vehjka!”_ Star suddenly raged at him, driving Julio back into the couch cushions in shock. “It’s too fekting quiet in this fekting place for me to fekting sleep!” 

“Okay! Okay, amigo. Chill out.” Ric was holding his hands up, wondering if he might need his powers. He had seen the alien go battle crazy before and it wasn’t a pretty sight. 

“I’m not hot,” Star said, fixing him with a sullen glare before turning back to the big screen television. “I’m tired. I’m _always_ tired. This planet is too quiet.” 

“I don’t get you.” 

Running an absent hand through his long hair, the alien let out a frustrated exhale of breath. “I’m from a world of constant media bombardment every second of the day. I grew up to a visual and auditory assault that would drive most sentients insane, and often did. I adjusted. Now I’ve found that I can’t sleep without it.” 

Rictor realized that the redhead was talking about sensory deprivation. “Shit, man. That’s an easy fix,” he said, pushing himself off the sofa. “C’mon.” 

There were plenty of small televisions scattered around the reservation and it didn’t take them long to find one and set it up in Star’s room. Julio fussed with it while the alien sat on his bed and watched him. “There’s no cable hook-up in here,” the Latino muttered as he fiddled with a make-shift antennae. “I might find a signal but it’ll probably be weak as hell. I- Hey, there’s something.” It was some rerun of Friends he had found. “The picture’s shit and the volume is mostly static. I guess it’s watchable if you put your fingers in your ears and squint a little. Will that tide you over until-?“ He was turning to look at Star and his words ground to a halt when he saw the Mojoworlder sprawled back in his bunk, fast asleep. 

“I’ll be damned,” Ric muttered under his breath, smiling at the sight. He found his gaze lingering longer than it should have and left the room in a hurry. That marked the first night Shatterstar got a decent night’s sleep since arriving on this world and he never forgot who had helped him accomplish it. A television became a mainstay in his quarters from that point onwards. When one wasn’t available, a radio served in a pinch. He graduated to headphones and an iPod when the team moved into tighter quarters at Xavier’s mansion. Even after a year on Earth, his system still could not accept silence as the norm. He needed sound to sleep. 

Right now, he was wearing earbuds and Ric could hear the tinny beat of some hard rock number. It sounded like Queensrÿche's "Operation: mindcrime". Despite the assault on his eardrums, he was deep asleep and dreaming about something. Every now and then, his eyes rolled underneath of the closed lids or his body twitched, but that was about the extent of it. Ric studied the points of the star tattooed around the alien’s left eye. It was a distinctive, glaring mark against the pale flesh. On the one hand it definitely made him stand out, but on the other it was almost an affront; like throwing motor oil on a priceless work of art. It was a brand of ownership, Star had told him once; no slave was without some manner of mark on their face or body. Ric had asked him why his star matched the one that Longshot wore on his costume. The alien didn’t have an answer for that. He was normally quiet, but went practically mute when conversation shifted around to the other Mojoworlder and Ric could never figure out why. 

Julio had met Longshot once in a chance meeting. The X-Man was outgoing and extremely friendly with a childlike, almost innocent demeanor. He only had four digits on each hand, was tall and lanky, and there was something about his skin that didn’t look quite right. Even his blond hair had a funny consistency to it; the harsh mullet could be easily mistaken for a wig, and a poorly made one at that. He looked alien. Star didn’t. If that was what a hundred years of streamlining the slave-making process resulted in, Julio sure couldn’t fault the results. He smiled fondly at his best friend and closed his eyes. And slept. 

He woke up screaming less than two hours later. 

“-Sae! _Sae tez, Julio!_ Dhez mait sa frastk! Sae!-“ 

 _Wha-fuck language izzat?_ Ric thought blurrily, struggling in someone’s arms, still partially stuck in a nightmare full of blood and death. He activated his power and released a seismic pulse that brutally repelled that presence off of him. It took a few seconds too long to recognize his surroundings or realize what he’d done. He looked around and saw Shatterstar pushing himself up from where Ric’s power had thrown him. Part of the tent had collapsed where he'd been thrown. “Oh shit, man! I’m sorry!” 

Star coughed and wiped away blood from his bottom lip. “[ _I’ve been trying to get you to wake up for almost a full minute_ ,]” he said in a remarkably calm voice. “[ _Are you all right?_ ]” 

It was at times like these Julio didn’t know what he had done to deserve a person like Star in his life. “You’re asking me that and you’re the one bleeding? How badly did I blast you?” 

The alien passed off his concern with a distracted wave. He looked more irritated by the fact his partner was insisting on speaking English. “Julio, your nightmares are getting worse. What’s wrong?” 

This wasn’t a first time for them. Ric had always been prone to nightmares ever since he’d seen his father murdered. Sometimes they were about Stryfe (which translated to Cable); sometimes about Cameron Hodge and The Right; sometimes they were a replay of old missions that took a really bad turn. His concerns about returning home was bringing them back with a vengeance and tonight he’d dreamt of Jake Martinez gleefully skinning Shatterstar alive. 

“I think the downtime’s getting to me, too,” he said in a shaken voice, unable to meet his partner in the eye. “Bugging out of here might be just the thing.” 

Star grunted in agreement. “The insects _are_ a nuisance.” 

“No, I meant-“ Julio smiled a little at the alien’s constant battle with idioms. “Never mind. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” He took the opportunity to run a hand across Star’s chest, studying the alien’s face for any sign of weakness or betrayal of pain. He let his examination drift lower until he was gripping that warm length of meat at the nexus of the warrior’s muscled thighs. “Uh oh, I think I feel some swollen tissue.” 

Setting his jaw, Star said, “Keep doing _that_ and it’s going to get even more swollen.” 

“Aw shucks. Guess I’m just gonna have to kiss it and make it better,” the Mexican quipped and took that half-hard cock into his mouth and started sucking. He was relieved to take the initiative for a change; enjoying any diversion that would take away the thoughts of Mexico for awhile and Star was more than happy to be on the receiving end, although he eventually reciprocated with equal fervor. They wrestled and frolicked in the half-collapsed tent, laughing and kissing and fucking as only very young adults are capable of doing. They ended up bringing the rest of the tent down around them with their antics. 

By the time they had it partially back up, it was approaching dawn and even Star was content to postpone his usual manic training ritual to sleep in. Wrapped in his muscular arms, Julio fell asleep again and this time there were no nightmares, just peace. 

Until they were interrupted.

 

* * *

 


	3. Multiple Choice

“Christ, don’t you two know how to put up a friggin’ tent?” Spoke up a rough voice. 

Reacting instantly, Shatterstar pulled away from Julio’s body, rolled, and came up brandishing his swords all in one smooth move even before the Latino had realized there was any kind of intrusion. 

“Shatterstar, it’s me,” Cable said wearily, as if speaking to a child. He was staring at them through the flap on the side window that had become unzipped during their antics. 

“Yes, I know that, _vehjka,_ ” the alien said and didn’t lower the weapons, completely uncaring of the fact that he was crouched in the nude. 

“Holy shit!” Julio cried, scrambling to cover himself up. He pulled the other sleeping bag around Star’s waist, hissing under his breath, “Stand down, dude. We’re not exactly in our fighting forms here if you catch my drift.” 

Casting a perplexing glance at Star, Cable looked over at Rictor. “Get dressed and meet me outside. We have to talk,” he said and disappeared. 

“Huh. Arrogant as ever,” Ric muttered as he hunted around for his clothes. He noticed the alien was still glaring at the sagging tent window and threw a pair of jeans at his head. “Snap out of it, Star. Get dressed. He doesn’t appreciate the view as much as I do.” 

Muttering Cadre under his breath, Star finally began pulling on his clothes and asked, “[ _Why is he here? How did he find us?_ ]” 

“Look, we’ll find out soon enough, okay? Chill out.” 

“[ _I am not hot_ ,]” came the grumbled retort but Ric didn’t bother to make the correction. It had become something of an old joke between them. 

Cable was leaning against the picnic table when the disheveled pair emerged from the dilapidated tent. He had his arms crossed and there were no visible weapons on his person. Star took note of that and imbedded his swords point-first down into the ground. He flanked Rictor as the smaller teen approached their former leader. “So, what’s up, _jefe_? How come _you’re_ here?” 

“You can thank Youtube,” Cable said, pulling out his cell phone and holding it up so they could watch the video titled “Crazy Mutant Cliff Climber”. Some camper had been in possession of a high powered video camera and had taped Shatterstar while he had been engaged in some reckless mountain climbing; jumping, flipping, swinging, (occasionally missing) his ascent back and forth perilous ledges, the odd rogue boulder, or even springing from a pine branch like it was a catapult. Watching the obviously superhuman acrobatics, Rictor was struck numb. With that long red pony-tail trailing along behind him, there was absolutely no question who it could be. 

“I remember that day. I broke two fingers,” Star said in a calm voice as his online image disappeared into the tree line and the video ended with the person swiveling the camera around to his excited face and exclaiming, _“Did you fuckin’ see that?!”_  

Ric stared at Star in disbelief. “You did?” 

He shrugged. “They healed.” 

“This was uploaded three days ago and has already generated over fifty thousand hits,” Cable told them. “It’s going viral.” 

“Is that good?” Star asked eagerly and Ric had to elbow him in the ribs. “No, it isn’t. We’re supposed to be lying low, remember?” 

“If I’ve seen this, you can bet that Commander Gryaznova and her squad of Sentinel Primes have as well. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out where this was filmed and show up. I lucked out and did a scan of the area. The computer recognition software in the PACRAT homed in on the truck. You guys haven’t traveled too far from the cabin I dropped you off at, have you?” 

The anger returned to Star’s face. “I believe the better word for what you did to us is called ‘abandonment’.” 

“Yeah, you just fucking left us there, _pendejo!_ ” Ric shouted. 

“Oh, for the love of-“ Cable gritted his teeth and told them; “ _I came back the next night!_ I figured all of you just needed some time to decompress before I placed you in some safe locations. I didn’t think that _you_ -“ He pointed at Star, “-would get that piece of shit truck up and running so quickly.” 

“Tabitha assisted,” the alien said in a more humble tone. 

“You came back?” Ric marveled. “Man, we all thought-“ 

“I know what you thought,” the cyborg said in a harsh voice. “You two are the only ones I’ve managed to find. What happened to the others?” 

“They bought a used car and headed up to Michigan to get Jimmy, but that was well over a week ago. We left our cell phones back at the cabin so there’s no way for us to keep in touch. I haven't got a clue where they are.” 

“Shit. They could have been captured by now. Or worse.” He blew out air through his nose in a snort and then looked at the pair. “At least you two are alright. Honestly, I figured you’d be in Mexico by now.” 

Ric’s cheeks reddened at the blunt accusation, but Star swept in with the merciful explanation of; “We decided it would be best if I taught him the Cadre language before we traveled there. We will need a code between us to effect successful maneuvers.” 

“Uh _huh_. I caught a glimpse of the neat training technique you two seemed to have worked out for yourselves. Sure beats buying Rosetta Stone.” 

“It is based on a reward system,” Star shot back with surprising ease to Cable’s obvious sarcasm. “I cannot speak for Rictor, but I've found the end results to be simply outstanding.” 

Even Cable had to betray a stunned blink at that comeback while Julio had to snicker. “[ _Good one._ ]”

 _“Codlista.”_  

“Alright boys, enough jokes at the old man’s expense,” Cable grumbled, eyeing them with veiled amusement. “Pretty soon state-of-the-art Sentinels are going to be combing these woods thanks to your new online notoriety. Pack your gear and get into the ‘Rat. I’ll take you down to Mexico myself.” 

“We will not have to travel by boat?” Star had been clearly unnerved by the prospect of crossing the Gulf, never having traveled in a boat over a huge expanse of water before. He was still fretting about the wisecrack Meltdown had said about it being hurricane season. Ric had tried to play it off as a bad joke but the alien wasn't swayed by the reassurance. 

“Nope.” 

“This is good news, Julio! I’ll start collecting our belongings,” the alien said, returning to the tent and disappearing inside. 

“Yep. Just great,” Ric muttered under his breath, catching the huge man’s attention. 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m just not so sure that Mexico is such a good idea anymore,” the younger man admitted. 

The tension that had been visible in Cable’s stern features actually relaxed a little. He kept his voice carefully neutral when he asked, “Oh? How come?” 

Ric cast a troubled gaze over to where Star was dragging their gear out of the tent and deliberately opened his mind to the huge mutant. Recognizing how rare an invitation that was, Cable plucked at the neglected threads of their old rapport and asked gently into his mind, * _What’s wrong, Rictor?_ * 

It was impossible to manage any kind of deception in a mental communication and Ric had no telepathic skills for subterfuge. He could only speak the truth. What he didn't say, the images were displayed in high definition for Cable to plainly see. Ric haltingly explained how the family situation in Mexico affected him personally and betrayed his misgivings about confronting them. Hovering in the background were the remnants of his earlier nightmare, adding brutal clarity to what Julio was desperately trying to keep vague. Cable realized that it all translated down to one thing: The kid was scared to death. 

Speaking calmly, Cable told him, _*Why don’t you shelve this trip to Mexico, at least for the time being? The X-Men and other X-groups have relocated to Muir Island. You and Shatterstar can join up with one of them for awhile.*_

Julio bowed his head, seriously considering the offer. Dios, it was tempting ... _*I can’t let my family keep on doing what they are, but ... I don’t want Star to get hurt either. I’m in a real bind here.*_ It would just about tear him apart to split them up, but until this issue of personal vengeance was settled perhaps there was no other alternative than: _*Maybe-maybe you can convince him to go to Muir Island with you...?*_

_*Star’s not going to listen to me anymore.*_

“Huh?” Rictor craned his head up to look at him. “Why not?” 

Cable had seen the animosity in the alien’s face and posture when he had woken them up in the tent. He chose to say instead, * _You know why he’s with you, right?*_  

Red-faced, Ric immediately went on the defensive. * _Joder. Don’t make this about sex. I don’t want to talk about that shit with you._ * 

* _Of course it’s about sex, but that’s not what I meant. Do you really understand why Shatterstar is staying with you?_ * 

* _What d’you mean? Friendship? You got a problem with that now?_ * 

* _It’s gone far beyond friendship and you and I both know that. He’s a slave created to have a submissive mind-set and you have control over him whether you realize it or not.*_  

“You’re so full of shit,” Julio said, turning away only to have one silver hand grab him by the shoulder and whirl him back around. 

* _I’m the telepath here! Remember? I can see what’s he’s thinking!_ * Cable barked into the youth’s astonished mind. * _In the beginning, I used to have his allegiance. When he left the Mojoverse, he was trained to follow orders and he latched onto me out of blind familiarity-_ * 

*And _you didn't have anything to do with making sure it stayed that way, right?_ * Ric sneered. 

* _Listen, smart ass. You’re close to Star. You’re lovers. I get it. But don’t forget for one second what he really is: A highly trained killing machine. When he goes into battle mode, and he eventually will, do you have the slightest clue how to get him back under control? He’ll only take orders from you now. How far are you prepared to go to get him back in line?_ * 

Ric was genuinely lost for words. He’d seen Star challenge Cable and Domino plenty of times when they tried to get him back on track and it had never been an easy task. * _He ... he thinks of me as his ... master? That’s not right, Cable. It can’t be._ * 

* _He isn’t human, Julio. He’s an advanced, bioengineered warrior from the future and extensively brainwashed by Mojo V to kill for sport. You need to understand the responsibility you’re taking on if you’re really going to go down to Mexico and start fighting your relatives. You need to ask yourself the hard questions: How far are you willing to let him go? How do you expect to keep him on a leash_?* 

“He’s not a fucking dog!” Ric shouted and Star immediately straightened from where he had been dissembling the tent to stare at them. 

 _*No, of course he isn’t,*_ Cable said calmly in the Mexican’s mind. _*But bear in mind that he’s only experienced freedom for a very short time. That makes him unpredictable and extremely dangerous. He will kill for you. He will put his life on the line and die for you if necessary. That’s how much of a hold you have over him now.*_

Swallowing, Ric looked over at Star and saw the alien had his head cocked, staring at them in a curious, slightly perturbed way, knowing they were talking about him through a mental rapport he was deliberately being excluded from. The growing anger was plain on his face. Just Ric’s mention of a dog was enough to set him off. But what Cable was suggesting ... 

Sensing the lapse, Cable said, _*Let’s go to Muir Island. All three of us. I’m making this suggestion more for his sake than for yours. This world is still too confusing for him. How would he react if something happened to you in Mexico? Have you even thought about that?*_

The two of them going solo against a family of gunrunners and mercenaries. What if a lucky bullet took Ric out? Julio began to suspect what would happen just as Cable knew it already as fact: Star would go completely berserk. There’s no telling how violent he would get or how far it would escalate. The body count could potentially climb to the hundreds; criminals, police, civilians. They were all potential targets if they got in his way. Star’s end would be bloody and violent and probably very painful. The thought of his best friend succumbing to that fate was almost unendurable. 

He was about to actually give in to Cable’s suggestion when Star joined them, glaring at the silver-haired mutant in a manner he hadn't done since he first joined X-Force. “I resent being left out of a conversation that has Rictor so clearly distressed. I demand to know what you are talking about.” 

“This involves him so we’ll ask him,” Rictor said out loud, looking at Star. The way the alien immediately snapped all of his attention to Julio made the Hispanic realize the validity of Cable’s cautions. His didn’t have a boyfriend so much as he had a servant. It made his stomach clench and his heart ache. “Star, do ... do you really want to go to Mexico? Or would you rather join up with the X-Men and other mutants at Muir Island?” 

“Whatever you decide is fine-“ 

“ _No!_ It’s not up to me!” Ric snapped. “What do _you_ want to do?” 

Star didn’t appear to understand the question and that made Ric feel even worse. _Ay Dios, Cable was right,_ he thought miserably. _I've inherited a six-foot-three, redheaded pit bull_. 

“You have the first pick,” Cable interjected when Ric visibly faltered. “You can choose to go to either place. It’s completely up to you.” 

“Where does Ric want to-“ 

“ _Fekt!_ ” Julio shouted and walked away. 

“I don’t understand,” Star fretted, eyeing Cable in confusion. “What have I done wrong now?” 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Rictor and I were just discussing your options of exercising free will. You’re your own person now, Gaveedra. No Mojo, no Cadre Alliance, no X-Force. I have concerns that perhaps you’re following him because you’re used to being told what to do. You know that you don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to, right? You’re free to do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Do whatever-” 

“I _want_ to be with Rictor.” 

Cable sighed at the expected response. “I know that, but is it because you still have a slave mindset and want to be controlled? Or because you genuinely care about him?” 

“Is that what you two were discussing? Is that why he objected to my being compared to a dog?” Star was looking at him fiercely. 

“Mexico has nothing to do with you. It’s his personal vendetta against his relatives.” 

“How does that differ from my following _you_ on some of your foolish crusades?” Star shot back with amazing venom. “I really wonder, _vehjka_ , if you are most upset because I chose Julio over you. He treats me kindly, which is more than I can ever say for you. You used me. You lied to me the very first day we met. If you were any other man, I would kill you where you stand right now. I can't believe you have the arrogance of preaching to me of free will when you took such pains to suppress mine so long as it was to your advantage. Take your offer and your advice and leave this place. We will get to Mexico on our own.” 

Cable did not bridle well under the criticism. He grumbled low in his throat and held his place, defiantly crossing his arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll outfit you with gear and provide some financing to help set yourselves up. It’s what you’re going to need if you intend to pursue this course.” 

"Why are you being so generous?" 

“Because you’re one of the founding members of X-Force. And maybe ... just _maybe_ some of what you said is true and I want to try and make it up to you as best I can. Consider it a token of apology from your former leader.” 

Shatterstar went silent as he usually did when he gave some personal matter great thought. “I do not want us to part on bad terms,” he finally admitted, casting the taller mutant a glance. The animosity had passed from his light blue eyes and his deep voice lost its rough edge. “I’m not so sure if Julio will be so accepting of your offer, but I have far more experience in these matters and I know that any assistance is invaluable. Thank you, Nathan.” 

Cable offered him a curt nod and observed him for a moment before speaking. “You've changed. It’s only been ten days, but I see the difference in you and it’s not a bad thing. Do you know what you’re signing on for when you two land in Mexico?” 

Star offered him an indifferent shrug; an action he could only have gotten from his close association with Rictor. “I can’t imagine it being much different than when I ran with the Cadre. However, I do have ... concerns.” 

“What are they?” 

"This remains between us, yes?" 

"Absolutely." 

"I have a different perspective to the gunrunning issue than Rictor does. For him, it is personal; an affront to his family honor he seeks to rectify. I can respect that. However, as a former member of the Cadre Alliance on Mojoworld, I saw things from the other side: If not for gunrunners we would not have gained the arms necessary to fight the Imperial Protectorate. Ric cannot tell me with any certainty that the weapons his relatives sell do not go to forces that may need them. That presents me with a personal conflict." 

"Have you talked to him about this?" 

"In part. He says it is not like Mojoworld and that illegal weapons sold to any group of humans, no matter their plight, is wrong. I have watched earth television extensively. There are oppressed groups of humans all over this world. They need such arms to overthrow the tyrants jeopardizing their lives. How do I know that Ric’s relatives are not actually providing a viable service?" 

"It's against the law-" 

Star made an absent gesture of dismissal. " _Fekt!_ If human values and rules were regarded with any kind of respect, this planet would be a Utopia instead of the chaotic alternative it presently is. I do not acknowledge your system of laws; I follow the rules necessary for base survival. In my experience, only the side possessing the most weapons is the victor. It is a belief I know that you share, Cable." 

"That's true, I'm not even going to debate the issue. Might makes right. In Rictor's defense; what his relatives are doing is wrong because they aren't discriminating in who they do business with: Drug gangs, mercenaries, organized crime bosses. In short, they're outfitting the _tyrants_ , not those who might oppose them. That's the difference here." 

Understanding gradually replaced the cynicism on Shatterstar's face. "Then that makes my decision easier to make. Rictor's relatives must be stopped at all costs." 

Even though he knew right from the beginning that this was going to be the end result of the conversation, Cable couldn't stop himself from saying: "You’re going to wind up getting yourself killed.” 

Astonishingly, a small smile appeared on Star's usually stern face. "I've lived longer than Mojo ever dreamed possible. Each new day is a gift. I'm content to spend the last of them with Julio." 

Cable's left arm inched around to the small of his back where he kept a small neutralizer. He had suspected Star's loyalty to Ric, but not this totality of blind fanaticism. He was prepared to knock out the alien and drag him back to Muir Island by force. Of all of the X-Force members, he emphasized with Star the most; perhaps because of their similar background and natures. Most likely because he had failed the young man so badly. He had used Star when the alien had been at his most vulnerable; enticed him with lies, exploited his abilities, threatened his life for a cause that was never his to begin with. 

Right now Star was looking in the direction to wherever Rictor had sulked off, clearly concerned for his best friend. Just as his hand closed around the neutralizer, ready to plunge it into the alien's shoulder, Cable took a deep breath and let it go, forcing his arm to drop to his side in surrender. “Go after him and bring him back. I’ll finish packing your gear. Hurry!” 

Star flashed him a grateful glance and took off at a run. He was genuinely happy and Cable had never seen him look like that before. The young alien had definitely changed for the better. As much as Cable viewed the trip to Mexico as a suicide mission, he knew he had no right to interfere in the pair’s lives and separate them. Mutants as a rule forged precarious friendships and rarely found trusted confidants or lovers. These two young men deserved to enjoy their unique union as long as it lasted; for good or ill. 

Star found Rictor sitting on a bench near the Ranger station and wordlessly sat at the far end. After a couple of stressful, silent minutes, Ric attempted in Cadre, [ _Cable’s still be waiting for me both?]_  

"Bai," Shatterstar said in agreement. “[ _He’s breaking down the camp in preparation for our trip_.]” 

Releasing an exasperated grunt, the Hispanic managed to ask, "[ _Where does you decide to be heading?_ ]" 

"[ _I have no interest in Muir Island_ ,]" Star told him. "[ _I will stand by your side in Mexico._ ]" 

" _Jahe, uhm, jihe sio ... se hez_ \- Aw, fuck it, Gav! This is too important to mangle with my crappy Cadre," Ric said irritably. "I don't want you to think you have to stick with me because I have some kind of authority over you. You're my best friend, not my slave." 

"I know that, Julio." 

"But-" 

"And... yes, you have a degree of influence over me. I won't deny that. It’s not a bad thing." 

 _"It's not?!_ Try seeing things from my perspective!" 

"Try seeing it from mine," the redhead told him in his deep, level voice. "Fifteen years of being told what and when and how to do ... _everything_. Only having free will for two hours a day, and then only in the name of survival in the games. My two years with the Cadre were little better. I was told what to do and didn't argue and that was just how they liked it. I did not know actual freedom until I came to earth. And I did not know friendship or intimacy until I met _you_. How can I not be indebted to you for that?" 

Ric looked flattered and miserable at the same time. "I want us to be partners. 50-50. Equals." 

"Relationships usually require a dominant partner in one form or other. In personal matters, you can dictate the rules. In battle, I will call the shots. Is that a fair compromise?" 

"Uh, I dunno. I've never been in a relationship before." 

"I believe we're in one now.” 

"Yes, I _know_ that!" Ric snapped. 

Star looked at him, suddenly puzzled. "Do you want me to go to Muir Island? Without you?" 

That got the Hispanic's attention. His head snapped up in shock. "Huh?" 

"I've noticed that you have been irritated with me lately. Do you wish to ... " He swallowed and looked at Ric gravely. "... end this relationship?" 

Ric was so thunderstruck that he could barely comprehend what the alien was saying and simply said again, _"Huh?"_

"Is that why you are so upset? Is our friendship finished?" Star was beginning to get increasingly agitated. "You just have to tell me, Julio! _Tell me!"_  

"Whoa. _Whoa!_ Calm down!" Ric managed to say, grabbing for his arm. The muscles he felt under his hand were thrumming like live wires. "We're cool. Everything's cool, okay?" 

" _It is not cold!_ If I have offended you in some way then have the decency to tell me to my face. Do not let me languish in confusion like with the phone calls!" 

Rictor had been wondering when _that_ was going to come back and bite him on the ass. When he had gone to Mexico, leaving Star behind, he had promised to call regularly- but never did. They had gotten their wires crossed, thanks to interference from both ends, and the alien had taken the abandonment personally. Like with all things that were of an emotional nature, Star kept his resentments deeply buried and the phone call issue was obviously still a sore point. "I apologized for that," Ric muttered. "And if there were problems between us I'd tell you, Star, but there's not." 

"But-" 

"Look, I've been having second thoughts about going back home. Okay? I'm not so sure going against my relatives is such a good idea anymore. That's why I've been such an asshole lately and putting off leaving the park. It's nothing you said or did." 

Shatterstar started to calm down and regarded him closely. "I do not understand the sudden change in your resolve." 

"It's been these last ten days. We've gotten really close. I don't-" Ric rubbed the back of his neck and stared down at the ground. "I don't want to see you get hurt or-or killed and know I'm the one responsible for it. I don't think I could live with that. It was all fun and games when we were with X-Force and just teammates but, we're a couple now. What hurts you, hurts me, and my relatives are crazy. Remember that movie ‘Scarface’?" 

"Violence, drugs, profanity. It was highly entertaining." 

"That's the kind of sick shit we'd be going up against. I don't want to risk it. Or you." 

Predictably, Star just looked puzzled. "I don't have a say in the matter?" 

"I know what you'd say. You said it yesterday. You want to kill something." 

Straight-faced, the alien said, "Is that what is bothering you? Since they are your relatives I will acquiescence to near-mortal wounding. Would that suffice?" 

"There ain't gonna be any killing or wounding. We're not going to Mexico and that's it!" Ric said and got to his feet and started to walk back to the campsite. When he looked back, he saw that his partner was still seated on the bench, watching him. "Let's _go_ , Star." 

The alien didn't budge. "Your relatives are endangering innocents with their activities. If we do not deal with the situation, who will? You wanted to stop your uncle and cousins. You wanted to avenge what happened to your friend Salvatore-"

 _"Man, you just don't get it!"_ Ric whirled around, tears springing to his eyes. "I don't want to see you end up like him! I couldn't stand to see that happen to you! I don't-" He wiped his eyes and choked out, "I don't want to lose you, Gav." He was barely aware that Star had caught up to him and was holding him by one shoulder. No more contact than that. Julio had made it very clear that close contact in public would give people the wrong impression. Star went along with it. For now. "I've never felt for anyone like I feel for you," the Hispanic whispered. "I can't risk losing you over some stupid vendetta. I-I won't do it." 

Star's shoulders slumped. He looked around and saw fellow campers and day visitors and held his place with difficulty, wanting to draw Julio close; to try and comfort him with more than words because English was simply not his forte. "If I agree to your decision, then I lend credence to your belief that you are my master. I do _not_ agree with you. Take my defiance as you will," he said and left to return to their campsite and assist Cable with packing. Ric stared after him in amazement. 

Shatterstar was halfway down the dirt road when the ground around him exploded.

 

* * *

 


	4. All Aboard

For a split second of time that seemed to last _forever_ , Rictor stood in place and stared at the smoldering crater where his best friend had just been standing. He suddenly screamed so hard that his voice broke. “ _STAR-!_ ” 

He willed his legs to get moving and felt the telltale vibrations in the ground of an oncoming attack a split second before there was another explosion in his path. He managed to feint aside at the last minute, showered in dirt but at least uninjured. He dove for the ground and dug his fingers into the earth, coaxing the elemental energies from deep within the submerged tectonic plates and twisting the landscape sideways, providing a shield of earth between him and the nearby tree line where he suspected the attack was coming from. 

“ _Star!_ Where are you?!” He cast an urgent glance around the area. There was no sign of him. “Ay Dios, Gav-!“ 

“I’m alright, Rictor!” called a familiar voice far behind him. 

Whirling around, the Hispanic saw that the alien had managed to avoid the attack and had scooped up some harried civilians and pulled them to cover behind the vehicles in the parking lot. He appeared remarkably unscathed. Sometimes Ric forgot about Star’s inhuman reflexes and speed. 

Just as he was coaxing his heart to start beating again, he caught a glimpse of a Sentinel Prime sprinting across the clearing towards them. Furious at the thought of almost losing his boyfriend, Ric let go of the mental restraints he usually kept on his mutant power. The ground beneath his feet positively _heaved_ in response to his overpowering emotions. He mentally manipulated the earth’s mantle and generated a powerful earthquake, something he hadn’t done since San Francisco five years earlier (and completely against his will). The radiating waves of energy encompassing his body filled his pores and enveloped his form in a brilliant green aura. It was like being injected with pure adrenaline. Effortlessly, he willed a huge column of smoldering rock –several hundred thousand tons- to emerge from the ground in a towering pillar and slapped his hands together in that unmistakable gun-shape. He released an enormous concentrated blast that obliterated the mountain of slag, showering the Sentinel in molten shrapnel and severely damaging it. The debris set the grass and woods on fire, making the rest of the Sentinel Prime forces run and scatter. 

Radiating that raw green glow of pure elemental power, Rictor gestured in their direction and a ripple ran along the ground growing in breadth and strength until it resembled a tsunami of earth and debris that slammed over the attack force. Each time he saw so much as an arm or leg move in the twisting landscape he summoned another landslide, and then another; each stronger and larger than the one that came before. 

Back at their campsite, Cable knew something was wrong the instant he felt the ground beneath his feet shake. Reaching out with his mind, all he registered was blank fury radiating from Rictor because of some sort of attack on Shatterstar. By the time he showed up at the battle site, blaster in hand, he could hardly believe the totality of the damage. The ranger station and outbuildings were lying in ruins, the cars in the ripped up parking lot were scattered around like tinker toys, the trees were all lying in crazy haphazard angles in the torn-up ground, and the woods were on fire. Cable noted it all with clear amazement as he tried to hold onto his footing. _Had he really been worried what Star would do if something happened to Ric?_ He should have been more concerned if it turned out the other way. Rictor manipulated seismic energy and it was during rare moments like these, when his mental guards were down, that he showed precisely what he could do with that power: Create destruction on a massive scale. The entire park was in the grips of an earthquake that was probably at least in the seven range of a seismograph and there didn’t appear to be any end in sight. Ric looked like he was just getting warmed up. 

Shatterstar was protectively flanking a cluster of terrified civilians, but he didn’t appear alarmed by the devastation his boyfriend was churning out. The contented, admiring look on his face was more of amusement and, really, why wouldn’t it be? Where he came from, violence and carnage made for great ratings. The more widespread, the better the entertainment value. 

 _Christ, and I was actually worried about them operating alone in Mexico?_ _What the fuck was I thinking?_ Cable almost face-palmed before he caught sight of a Sentinel moving in on their blind side and instinctively raised his assault rifle. Shatterstar noticed it first and threw a Ford F-150 into its path, charging in after it and engaging the Prime in combat. He was armed with nothing more than a four-foot length of rebar he had pulled out of the pavement. It made an effective weapon and took the sentinel’s head off with one blow. The construct staggered back, trying to rebuild itself while screeching alarms that were signals for assistance. Star continued to bludgeon it with the steel bar. _“Ky! Snia bekht, Rictor! Frai sa!”_  

Ric glanced around at him, the lucidity gradually returning to his eyes. Just as Star threw the twitching body of the Prime high into the air, the Hispanic turned and blasted it to atoms with his power. 

 _They’re coordinating their attacks_ , Cable observed with approval. _I guess they really have been doing more than just screwing after all._ He was armed, ready to assist if necessary, but chose to stand back and let the pair handle the threat while he kept close watch. 

 _“Sch'amek tez mei jhaz’ha,”_ Star called over to Ric. He was bleeding in a few spots and his shirt was little more than rags. He had a firm grip on the rebar. 

_“Nai-!_

_“Tez mei bekht!”_ The alien snapped at him and the Hispanic visibly backed off, powering down. Star sprinted into the flaming, smoke-filled woods, flushing out the few Sentinels who had managed to avoid the worst of the landslides. Ric picked them off one by one; his seismic blasts so concentrated that they shook the constructs right down to twitching pieces of silver parts. There was a lull in the combat for almost a full minute before Star and one last Prime burst from the burning timber. Star had managed to pierce it with the steel bar and the two were rolling around in the ruined landscape, each trying to get the upper hand. Cable raised his rifle and was trying to get a clear shot. Rictor had given up trying to communicate in Cadre and was shouting: “Get outta the fuckin way, Star!” he had his hands locked in the gun shape. “Move your ass!” 

Shatterstar wasn’t having any of it. He had endured more than two weeks of inactivity and this prospect of battle had reduced him to a spitting, snarling, adrenaline-crazed berserker. The Prime fired off a blaster right next to his left ear, rupturing his eardrum, and he retaliated by ripping off its nose with his bare teeth. 

 _“-Civilian ident: Gaveedra Seven. Code name: Shatterstar. Otherworldly cross-dimensional time-displaced alien bio-construct-”_  the Prime was logically chattering away even as they battled. It slashed several heated claws across the teen’s stomach until Star managed to lever the arm back to an impossible angle, deriving satisfaction as it snapped from the stress. He used the flailing limb as a weapon and whaled away at the construct as it continued to babble: “- _swordsman with extensive knowledge of martial arts, including-“_

“ _Fekt!_ Shut up!” He blocked a kick that probably would have broken his pelvis and threw a punch that went wrist-deep into the techo-organic skin. He received a jolting shock for his efforts and pulled his hand back with a curse. As it fought, the Sentinel droned on: _“-superhuman strength, senses, reflexes, intelligence, speed, flexibility, healing factor, durability-“_  

“Mutant,” Star grunted, wrapping his hands around the rebar embedded in the Prime’s chest. He began to hum. 

A look of confusion crossed the construct’s damaged barely-human face and it actually faltered. “ _Does not compute. Insufficient data -“_  

“I’ll show you.” The alien snarled and released a concentrated shock wave that blew the Prime to pieces. He was thrown backwards by the force of the blast and must have been knocked unconscious because, when he opened his eyes next, both Julio and Cable were leaning over him looking down with concern. “Is the battle over?” he asked. 

Ric said, “Yeah, you took out the last one. You okay?” 

Star’s left ear was bleeding and when he sat up, he looked at his hands; both were badly burnt. “Channeling my energies through anything other than my swords is difficult. But still effective.” 

“You crazy fucker,” Julio admonished, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, but he was smiling. 

Cable considered them both for a few seconds and then hefted his blaster to his shoulder with a sigh. He looked over the ruined park, hearing the shouts of campers and wailing car alarms from all over the huge area. The landscape was so twisted it no longer resembled anything from the Park brochures. The woods continued to burn. They might as well have left a calling card that said: ‘X-Force Was Here’. Soon, police and government agents would be showing up to investigate, perhaps even S.H.I.E.L.D. It was time to make tracks. “All aboard for Mexico,” he muttered, bending to help pull Star to his feet. 

The alien tottered to one side, his equilibrium thrown off by his damaged ear. Julio leaned in to help steady him until he collected his bearings. 

“[ _My thoughts you were cancelled by those first attack_ ,]” Ric confided as they quickly made their way back to their campsite. 

“Nai,” Star dismissed with a slanted smile. “[ _I saw the missile out of the corner of my eye and jumped out of its path. Arize! You were magnificent out there, Julio. I’ve never seen you use your power in such a way. What a show!_ ]” 

“[ _Felt reals good,_ ]" Ric admitted, and then cast a troubled glance over his shoulder. The rangers were beginning to rally the campers and day visitors as best they could from this ‘natural disaster’, consulting handbooks that were years out of date and wholly inaccurate. The forest fire was beginning to spread. “[... _Buts looks at what me done. Peoples might be have hurt. My went too far with those power._ ]” 

“[ _We are both still alive. That is all that matters_ ,]” the alien said. He roughly bunted his shoulder against the smaller teen. It was meant as an affectionate gesture but it still almost knocked Ric off his feet. With a flash of a rare grin, Star ran ahead to grab as much of their gear as they could. 

Julio blushed as he always did when they were out in public looking like more than just friends, but he couldn't disguise the obvious attraction that he felt for the other mutant. Cable, carefully observant with everything that happened around him, pretended not to notice the exchange and just said, “I take back what I said before.”`

Ric glanced up at him. “Huh?” 

“You two worked really good out there. Efficient, organized, thorough. It’s a perfect defensive/offensive pairing I wouldn't have suspected if I hadn't seen it in action for myself.” 

“Well, it’s not like we don’t have the training,” Ric said, still feeling bad for the totality of the damage he was solely responsible for. “But working with Star just comes ... I dunno, naturally to me. We each seem to know how the other thinks.” 

“Intimate couples usually do.” 

The slight flush on Julio’s cheeks deepened in color. He was remembering that Cable had found them naked and spooning in the tent what felt like a lifetime ago, instead of one short hour. _Dios, it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet!_ “I let my powers go because I thought Star got nailed. He was fine, thank god, but it was just the thought that set me off. You and Domino; Cyclops and Jean Grey ... How the hell do you guys handle feeling that amount of-of-“ He was still floundering on the word ‘love’ and settled for: “-concern for a partner in a fight and not go crazy when you see them get hurt? Or worse,” he finished in a voice that was nearly a whisper. 

Never comfortable with conversations of this nature, Cable mulled the answer over in his mind for a bit before he finally said, “It’s a thing that only gets easier with time. You’re only eighteen, Julio, and this is your first serious relationship. It’s natural for your emotions to get out of control. Unfortunately, you have the distinction of also being a very powerful mutant and the two are often tied together. Only you can exercise control and restraint when- _if_ this happens again.” 

Rictor was no dummy and had caught that slip of tongue. “It _will_ happen again. He’s going to get shot, and stabbed, and god knows what else. He’ll be in pain and he’ll heal and then go right back at it because that’s what he’s designed to do. How can I watch him go through all that and not lose my goddamned mind?” 

“You have more self-control than you give yourself credit for. You may have over-reacted out there but, aside from extensive property damage, the only ones who got killed were the enemy. Star is still an unknown. You saw how he went after the last Prime?” 

“Yeah, I saw it,” Ric muttered. Too fixated on the prospect of combat, not even Julio’s supposed hold over his partner had been able to get Star to stand down until the Prime had been dispatched. 

“That was just fun for him. I can’t imagine what he would do out of revenge. For his sake and for those around him, you had better be careful, Julio.” 

“Thanks, no pressure there,” the Hispanic said, suddenly coming to a stunned halt. They had reached their campsite. What was left of it. The earthquake had toppled the trees and they were crisscrossed all over the site, demolishing the picnic table and their poor truck. Star had found his swords and was fussing over them just in case they had gotten damaged. The tent and rest of their camping gear and belongings lied under a twisted deadfall of timber. It looked like they were left with just the clothes on their back and Ric sighed. It wouldn’t be a first time for any of them. 

The PACRAT was cloaked from view and had a force shield that had protected it from damage. When all three were safely on board, Cable lifted off and hovered over the area where the battle had taken place. From the air, he could see the totality of the damage in a much broader scope; hectares of trees had toppled and were scattered like twigs and there were huge rips in the earth where the tectonic stress had pulled the deep strata apart at the seams like a poorly made dress. Leaning over on one side of him and staring out of the cockpit window, Star had a peculiar detached expression on his face; as if he was simply witnessing a particularly good movie-of-the-week. On Cable’s other side, Ric let out a sickly moan. 

“Let me back down there. I’ll try and pull everything back together,” he said. “Maybe I can fix some of it-” 

“What’s done is done,” Cable dismissed, although he flew over to where the forest fire was spreading and manipulated the ‘Rat’s energy field to smother the majority of the blaze. With his telekinetic powers, he extinguished the rest. That done, he set a course south-west. 

Star was exhausted from channeling his mutant power in such an unconventional way. He had barely settled into one of the rear passenger seats when he fell asleep (or passed out). Rictor made sure to securely strap him in, pausing to inspect the damage to his stomach, ear, and hands. It looked like they were healing quickly. Still, he got a medical kit and went about the task of cleaning and dressing his partner's wounds. He had a sinking suspicion that there was going to be a lot of this kind of attention in his future. 

When that was finished to his satisfaction, he went up and sat in the co-pilot seat beside Cable. They had gained altitude and the terrain beneath them was largely hidden from view by clouds. The PACRAT could haul ass but the mutant had settled on a cruising speed, clearly in no hurry. “Do you have any idea where you want to go?” Cable asked at last. 

“Not Guadalajara. Not yet. I know that one of my cousins operates a little satellite operation out of Soto La Marina, exporting guns to Texas. I was thinking of starting there; hit the small fish first, gather some intel before I charge into the big city and tangle with my uncles.” 

“Hn. It’s not a completely ... _awful_ plan-“ 

“ _Gracias, jefe_. Coming from you that’s high praise.” 

“Do you want my advice or not, smart ass?” 

Rictor crossed his arms but kept his mouth in check and passed his former leader a half-nod of encouragement. 

“I think you should stay low, keep your identity a secret for as long as possible. They don’t know Star and the small fry operations would be a breeze for him to tackle. You want to rattle the big guns? Keep them guessing who they’re up against right up until the final reveal.” 

“Aim him in the right direction and let him loose,” Ric muttered, secretly cursing the dog reference but knowing it was accurate. “Man, my cousins wouldn't know what hit ‘em.” 

“You don’t even need to ask Shatterstar if he’s on board for that strategy. I get the impression that’s how the Cadre used him: Point and shoot.” 

Rictor looked over his shoulder and saw that his best friend was still out for the count. He spoke in a low voice, “You’re right. He wants to fight. He’s practically aching from all of this inactivity. Hell, he even promised he would consent to a- How did he put it? A ‘near-mortal wounding’ rather than kill anyone.” 

Cable grunted. “That’s a generous offer coming from him.” 

“Thing is, killing them is going to be the only way to end things permanently. If they go to the hospital and then to jail, they’ll be back out on the street in a week just like my cousin Omar. The cops are just as crooked as my family is. I don’t want Star to be an executioner, and I sure as hell don’t want to have to be the one to tell him to be, but I don’t know what else I can do.” 

“Ric, there are other ways to make sure someone doesn’t go back to a life of crime.” 

“Oh yeah? What do you mean?” 

“It’s hard to pull a trigger if your fingers are cut off. Or transport weapons if you’re paralyzed from the waist down.” Cable fixed him with a hard, sidelong glance. “You get what I’m saying?” 

The way that the young Mexican’s face paled indicated his understanding. “Dios, that’s harsh ...” 

“But effective.” 

“I’m really in over my head here, aren’t I?” 

“You are, yeah.” The huge mutant inclined his head in Shatterstar’s direction. “But he isn’t. Let him do what he was made to do, don’t ask too many questions, and look away when you have to. That’s the only way you’re going to get through this. You’re not a killer. You don’t like to see people get hurt, but you’re involved with someone who does. Don’t hold it against him-“ 

“I wouldn’t-“ 

“Don’t hold it against him,” Cable repeated firmly. “You can’t have things both ways. Not if you really want to see things through and put an end this gun trafficking ring your family has set up. It’s going to get very personal and very messy for you. Building resentments is normal.” 

“Not against Star. Never,” Julio said firmly and the older mutant let it rest at that for now. He dimly remembered the days of his own prideful youth when sage advice fell on deaf ears. In those spirited times, he had only listened to what his heart, and that other traitorous organ below the belt, told him and it had never ended well. There was no sense trying to tell the teenager that. Not until he experienced it firsthand. And that first time was always the absolute worst. He hoped their relationship would survive to see the end of this nasty business but he wasn’t holding his breath. 

Rictor was staring straight ahead, lost in thought, and his right leg began restlessly jumping up and down. After close to a half hour, Cable was honestly getting tired of seeing the motion out of the corner of his eye. “You really should take Star’s example and try and get some rest-“ 

“Are you kidding? After cutting loose like that, I’m freaking jazzed,” Rictor said, holding out one hand and watching it vibrate with barely suppressed energy. “I want to run laps or-or do a training session or-“ he almost said ‘fuck’ and managed to bite the word back just in time. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said hastily and undid the straps and rushed to the back of the assault carrier. 

Cable’s had caught the errant thought and his hands tightened around the yoke. “Friggin teenagers,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. 

In the cramped stall, Rictor barely had the sense to lock the door before he was pulling his pants down and grasping his aching hard-on. He released a choked gasp at the feel of his fingers, still vibrating with the remnants of that primal energy. He didn’t have to stroke or pull to get his release. That maddening tickle of his encircled fist was more than enough of a treat. In mere minutes, he was aiming the head of his cock into the toilet bowl and shooting his come into the blue tinged water. He flushed it and sat down on shaking legs. That act of solitary desperation didn’t accomplish a damned thing. His nerves were still raw and jumpy, his entire body quivering and his dick was still hard as a rock. That power release in the park was making his body feel like it was coming down from a bad drug; wanting more, begging for more. Of _anything_. 

The door handle rattled as someone tried to turn the knob and he croaked out, “Occupied.” 

 _“Fekt,”_ he heard on the other side. He immediately leapt to his feet, unlocked the door and grabbed Star’s arm as the alien was turning away, dragging him inside the bathroom and slamming the door shut. 

“Julio?” Even as groggy as he was, Star eyed his partner’s harried state with concern. “I’ve clearly interrupted you. You didn’t have to let me in-“ 

“Yeah, I had to,” Julio said, making a half-assed attempt at pulling up his pants. “How’re you doing?” 

Star pulled off the gauze Ric had wrapped around his wounded hands and showed him his palms. The burns were crusted over with scabs that came off as he began to wash them under the tap, exposing the bright pink color of barely-healed skin. “The cuts on my stomach are almost healed, but I’m still deaf in my right ear. I have to get the blood out-“ 

“Uh huh,” Julio was only half-listening, watching as the alien discarded his ruined shirt and began using it to scrub the dried blood from his stomach where the Sentinel Prime had gouged him. The remnants of four slashes were still visible. He was lucky he hadn’t been disemboweled. Rictor grabbed a handful of wet paper towels and ran it over the pale skin and Star immediately recoiled and grabbed his wrist, staring at him with concern. “You’re vibrating, Julio. I thought it was a trick of the eye because of my distorted hearing but clearly something’s wrong with you.” 

“It-it was ... cutting loose like that. In the park. I haven’t done it in so long! My whole body’s amped, like I drank an entire case of Red Bull or something.” 

“What can I do to help?” 

“Fuck me.” 

Star looked at him as if he had gone deaf in his other ear. “... What?” 

“Fuck me,” Ric repeated. “Right here, right now, or I think I’m going to lose it and blow out the tail end of the ‘RAT.” 

“Julio, we will get Cable to land the vehicle in a safe place and then- _Ky!_ ” 

Rictor placed his vibrating hand directly on the crotch of Star’s jeans. The sensations were powerful enough to penetrate the denim and he placed his second hand beside the other, deliberately intensifying the tremors. Star hissed through his teeth at what Ric was doing. 

“I’m serious here, Gav. I don’t want to hear shit about condoms or lube or whatever other bullshit you want to say to try and stall and talk me out of this. It’s what I fucking need-“ he gripped that hardening length he felt beneath his fingers with a pressure just short of pain, knowing that the alien secretly liked it that way. “ _You’re_ what I need to get me through this. You hear me?” 

Star regarded him for a long minute and then glanced at the door and threw the lock. “Get your pants off,” he commanded, unbuckling his belt. 

Rictor scrambled out of his jeans as Star pushed his pants down past his hips and effortlessly picked the Mexican up and slammed his back against the wall. Ric scissored his legs around the taller teen’s waist and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close and kissing him with urgent lust. 

“This will probably hurt you,” Star said when he pulled his head back. He spit into his hand and reached down and positioned the head of his cock at the puckered entrance, physically lowering the Latino’s body onto it. 

“Don’t care,” Ric panted when he felt that blunt intruder spread his sphincter and slowly slip inside of him. His body had adjusted to Star’s size by now and penetration was easier than either of them would have suspected. Ric clutched Star’s body with impatient hands as that thick length finally slid all the way up and the alien began hunching into him, slow strokes at first but growing in intensity with alarming speed. It hurt but it was also maddening how good it felt, easily distracting his mind from wanting to power up and destroy. “Oh, fuck! That’s it, Gav. _Just like that!”_  

“ _Fekt!_ You are shaking all over, Julio,” Star said, his words gusting into the other’s mouth between crazed, hungry kisses. “Even inside, I can feel you vibrating. It is incredible.” He grabbed both cheeks of Ric’s ass and slammed up into him, driving it deep and hard just as the smaller man wanted it. _Needed_ it. 

Supported between the alien and the bathroom wall, Ric felt almost suspended as that hard length powered in and out of him. He wrapped one quaking hand around his straining dick again and reached down and let his fingers graze Star’s cock as it pistoned back and forth, adding a new sensation to the already frenzied union. At the feel of those vibrating fingers touching his cock and balls, Star cursed in Cadre; rough, coarse words Ric had never heard come from the normally composed warrior before. Hearing that made him climax just as hard as from the energy of his hand. Pearls of semen splattered against both of their stomachs. 

Star lapped at an errant strand that landed on Ric’s right pec and the two kissed, sharing the taste as their tongues fenced and danced together. “Come inside me, Gav. I wanna feel you do that,” the Mexican gusted into his left ear, biting the lobe and inciting another of those guttural curses. 

They had always used condoms before. They had always screwed in private before. This unprecedented, primal fuck in the bathroom of the PACRAT with Cable barely fifteen feet away was fueling both their desires into a fever pitch. Star drove into Ric with almost painful force, hunching into him with a desperate intensity until he finally buried it deep and came. Ric felt it; warm jets of fluid that bathed his colon with a creamy balm. He bit the meaty part of Star’s shoulder where it joined the powerful neck. The alien barely noticed, shuddering against him until he was finally spent and slowly pulled out. Ric felt the spill of semen run down his inner thigh as he was deposited back to the floor and he promptly sat down on the toilet, breathing hard and grinning. “Oh ... oh _wow_. Man! I think that was our best fuck yet.” 

“Agreed,” Star panted, leaning against the sink. “Did it serve its purpose?” 

Ric held out one hand and they both saw that it was steady as a rock. No more shaking. “Yeah, it sure did.” 

“Unique solution if ever there was one,” the alien remarked, smiling. He pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and wet them and began to get cleaned up. He suddenly faltered, tilting his head to one side as Cable was in his head long enough to make some churlish comment and then retreat. Star wasn’t receptive to the telepath’s mental blasts at the best of times and couldn’t understand why Ric was starting to laugh. “What did Cable just say?” 

Ric managed to stop laughing long enough to repeat what their former leader had said: “‘Welcome to the Mile-High Club’.”


	5. Falling Star

* * *

_Cable,_

_I’m sending this letter to the few dummy e-mail accounts I know you’ve got set up. After three months of this bullshit I’m on my ninth disposable phone so I’ve forgotten all the numbers you gave me when we first set down here in Mexico. Star would know them, but he- I can’t ask him. He’s-_

_Shatterstar died about an hour ago._

_By the time you read this letter, I’ll be dead, too._

_I’ve got his grave all dug out, but I haven’t got the courage to actually put him in it. Pecking out this note on a fucking mobile phone is just a diversion because I can’t look at him. Not the way he is. Not yet. I really want to go into the city and get the fuckers who did this to him. Then I remember what happened at the park. If I head into Guadalajara the state I’m in, I’ll turn the city into a crater. Maybe worse. This way is best. After I bury Star, I figured it out that if I put a finger into each of my ears and release a small seismic charge, I can liquefy my brains. It should be instantaneous. Even if it does hurt, it won’t be for long. Right now I’m in so much pain I can’t stand it. They killed him. They fucking killed him and it’s all my fault-_

 

* * *

Rictor was sitting in the jeep massaging his aching chest when he heard the explosion that meant the truck full of guns had been destroyed. This marked the three month time period after Cable had dropped them off in Tampico, Mexico and Star was finally finishing up his business in the little village of Limon. Julio remained in place and simply waited; his thoughts heavy with guilt and worry. About fifteen minutes later, Star returned. For some reason he had chosen to clean up this time; washing his hair and even finding a change of clothes that fit him. Julio figured it was because he had been too bloody from whatever he had done to Geraldo and didn’t want to be seen in that state. 

Before he got into the vehicle, he eyed Julio uneasily. Ric knew that look. Star was expecting some sort of lecture or prepared to be shouted at over what he had done to the mercenary he had coldly dispatched in the jungle. The Mexican didn’t have it in him at the moment. He didn't know what he could say. He offered the tall redhead a strained smile and simply said, “Get in. We have to make tracks." There's no doubt that there had already been phone calls made and reinforcements dispatched to their location. They had to get out of the area fast. 

Star settled into the passenger seat and Ric put the jeep into four-wheel drive and barreled through some old trail that ran around the village before connecting with another pot-hole strewn dirt road that didn't look like it was used very often. He drove along that for awhile, casting furtive, sidelong glances over at his partner. Star was unusually quiet and staring straight ahead. He looked tense and pale. 

"You know," Ric said in an attempt to get the warrior to talk. "Maybe it's time we took a break-" 

That was all it took. "I'm not going to Muir Island!" Star suddenly shouted and rocketed out of his seat, launching straight up out of the vehicle and snagging the overhead branch of a tree they had been driving under. It happened so fast that Ric kept driving for several more seconds before he hit the brakes, sending the vehicle almost sliding off the road.  

 _"!Qué chinga!"_ He muttered, slamming the gearshift into reverse. He quickly backed up until he was under the tree and saw the alien crouched low on a branch far above him. He hadn't pulled out a sword, so that was a good sign, but he looked close to bolting and that definitely wasn't. "Star? _Te sientes bien?"_  

 _"[Every time you're mad at me you make the threat of Muir Island.]"_ Star called down to him in Cadre. _"[I don't want to hear it anymore!]"_  

 _"[I'm not mad at you and Muir Island was only ever just a bluff,]"_ Ric admitted. 

 _"[Then why do you keep saying it?!]"_  

 _"[Because I can see you slipping back into your Mojoverse brainwashing and it's honestly scaring me a little. I feel like I'm losing you with each kill, piece by piece. The way you were looking at that mercenary you killed ...]"_ He betrayed an uneasy shiver. _"[That wasn't my boyfriend. That guy was a stranger. I want Gav back. My Gav.]"_  

The defensive anger passed on Star's flushed face and now he only looked sad. _"[I think it is too late for that, Julio.]"_  

Ric was shaking his head even before the words were out. _"[No, I got you back once, I can do it again. We just need to take a break-]"_  

"There’s no time to take a fekting break!"

This kind of tantrum was unprecedented for the normally reserved alien. It worried Ric more than a little. "Get down from there so we can talk like adults. You're giving me a crick in my neck having to look up like this." It was difficult for him to act like the rational one. Normally, he was the person who was flying off the handle. He really wanted to power up and shake the damn tree down to the roots to get Star off his perch but decided to give him the opportunity to make the move first. After a moment of silent consideration, Star realized that he was behaving childishly and jumped down to a lower branch. His foot slipped and he fell gracelessly to the ground. 

Now Ric was certain something was wrong with him, rushing out of the jeep. The alien didn't slip. He didn't fall. Even worse, he wasn't getting up. "Were you shot? Fuck, Star! What's wrong with you?" 

Star roused and slowly sat up with Ric's assistance. He looked at his hands and the Mexican plainly saw the remnants of healing blisters. "Using the shockwave power to dispose of the weapons ... It's beginning to affect me." 

Generating the energy and channeling it through his swords was Star’s mutant ability, but it always left him exhausted. During their time in X-Force, Ric could count on one hand how often he'd seen the alien use it. Since arriving in Mexico, he was doing it about every week. "It's starting to hurt?" 

Star betrayed a reluctant nod. 

"If that isn't an indication you need some downtime, I don't know what is," Ric told him, running a hand through that now almost-blond hair in an affectionate caress. "We're just a few hours from Pascuales. Plenty of places to lay low, sleep in a real bed, and relax for awhile." 

"Julio, we can’t-" 

"We're doing this, Star. No arguments. You're just about tapped out. So am I just from worrying about you." 

"I do not want you to worry," the alien muttered, still clearly unhappy with the notion of downtime. He didn't handle inactivity very well and they both knew it. 

"It's a done deal then. Let's hit the road." He helped the alien into the backseat of the jeep and Star slept during the entire drive into the large town. At this point in time, they were both oblivious to the fact that the alien had less than one day to live. 

Shatterstar roused when he felt the jeep pull off the highway and slow down. He sat up in the backseat to look around and saw that they were heading towards a coastal town. Ric spotted him in the rearview mirror and flashed him a broad smile. “Nice view, huh?” 

The guarded, unhappy expression the Mojoworlder had on his face during their argument back in Limon was still there. His normally deep voice was a rough rasp when he asked, “Where are you taking us?” 

“I told you we were going to Pascuales. I really like this place. They have a brand of beer here called ‘Estrella’ and it has an eight-pointed star on the label that looks like your tattoo. It doesn’t taste too bad, either. Not as good as you though,” he drawled, giving his lips a suggestive sweep with his tongue. 

Star wasn’t moved by the compliment. “When were you last here?” 

“When I took that month off from X-Force. I was with my uncle and his two-“ 

Alarm surfaced on the alien’s face. “Take us somewhere else.” 

“Seriously, we can find a decent hotel-“ 

 _“[Turn back to the highway and keep driving!]”_ Star growled in Cadre. He began reaching around the driver’s seat to grab hold of the steering wheel. _“[This place is not safe!]”_  

Ric had endured just about enough of his partner’s weird moodswings and pulled over to the side of the road so he could twist around in his seat and face Star directly. “What the fuck’s gotten into you? You’ve been acting like a jerk since Limon.” Star only glowered back at him in silence and Ric began piecing things together. “Actually, you’ve been like this ever since ... Was it something Geraldo told you?” 

At that point, Star dropped his eyes. “Julio, they know.” 

“What? Who knows? You’re not making any sense.” 

“All three of your uncles know that it is you involved in these raids. They figured it out quickly after the day I destroyed the first shipment.” 

All of the blood drained from Julio’s face. His vision dimmed and bright spots appeared on the peripheral of his vision. For a few seconds there, he thought he was going to grey out until he fought the sensation. He finally managed to say, “...How? I’ve been keeping out of sight just like we agreed. How the _hell_ -” 

“One of your uncles stole your cell phone*. It had pictures of all of the members of X-Force, our code names, all of the GPS data of where we had travelled, phone numbers, text messages- _Fekt!_ It had _everything!_ You never reported it missing. _You never followed Code 22!“_  

“I know I didn’t,” Ric murmured, shame-faced. “My uncle Gonzalo got me high and I thought I lost it at a whorehouse. I sure as hell didn’t want to try explaining _that_ to Cable so I just got a new one and hoped he wouldn’t notice. Fuck! All along it was Gonzo who stole it. Son of a bitch. Probably gave it to Martinez who- _Oh shit!_ ” He slapped his hands to his face as the enormity of this screw-up began to sink in. All of that information in the hands of their enemy ... 

“It is too late for the ‘oh shit's’,” Star said crossly. “They know I am a teammate of yours. They know exactly what we are doing here. According to the Fox, they are very close to capturing us. This town is too close to Limon. We must have more distance!” 

Ric swung out into the road in a blind panic, pulling a desperate U-turn to head back to the highway. He almost side-swiped a vehicle because he hadn’t checked to see if the road was clear. As the vehicle sped past, horn blaring, Julio was running a nervous hand back and forth through his dark hair as he stomped down on the accelerator. “What else did Geraldo tell you?” 

“A ‘hit’ has been put out on me; a death mark because I have killed so many. They intend to take you alive at all costs, but I do not think you will be for long once they are through with you. Your uncles are very angry and will exact retribution for the chaos we have caused. The Fox told me to tell you that your days are numbered.” 

Ric swallowed. There was only a dry click in his throat. “Did he say anything else?” 

“No. After he spoke those words I cut out his tongue,” the alien said, watching the traffic with a wary, suspicious eye. “And then I cut off just about everything else ... but I made sure I left him alive for his people to find.” 

At those coldly spoken words, Ric’s stomach rolled over. That was why Star had cleaned up after his grisly business with the gunrunner. He would have been coated in gore from head to toe. “So we run. That’s fine with me. We’ll make a straight shot up the coast. The next busy service station I see, we’ll pull in and steal another vehicle. Trade the plates. Do it a couple of times until we reach-“ 

“There is something else we could do, Julio.” Star was looking at him seriously. 

“What’s that?” 

“We should head directly into Guadalajara in a direct assault against your uncles. They would not expect that tactic.” 

Ric's sweaty hands tightened around the steering wheel. He shook his head. “You’re in no shape for it.” 

“Do not concern yourself with my health. I will not use the shockwave power again. With you by my side, I won’t need to. It is a sound strategy-“ 

“Like hell it is! We’re not ready!” Ric shouted at him over his shoulder. 

“Yes, we are!” Star yelled back. “The instant we set foot in Mexico we knew this day would come. Stop making excuses. We will finish this together. _Today._ ” 

“ _Not_ today. Tomorrow, after we’ve had a chance-“ 

“ _Fekt!_ We might not have a tomorrow! They are expecting us to run, not fight. It’s the perfect time for us to-” 

Ric stamped down on the brakes just hard enough to get his partner’s attention. “Damn it, Gav! I saw you fall out of that tree. Don’t tell me a two-hour nap has recharged your batteries because I know it hasn’t. I can see that just looking at you! If we’re going to be heading into Guadalajara, we’re going to do it after a full night’s sleep and only once we’ve plotted it all out.” 

In a perfect impression of Julio, Star dramatically threw up his arms in frustration and slumped backwards into his seat in an immature sulk. Ric also knew that was out of character for the alien. He could plainly see that Star had difficulty just keeping his eyes open. He had to get them somewhere safe and lay low for a while to recover. 

 

* * *

_Star knew our gooses were cooked the instant he interrogated Geraldo. He was a complete basket case and should’ve been trying to rest, but he just couldn’t. At that point we were only a couple of hours ahead of my uncle Gabriel’s chief hitman, Jake Martinez. I think Star could actually feel them getting close. Some sort of vague precognitive sense he got from fighting in the arenas for so long. We managed to ditch the jeep and get a truck and change the plates. Then we got off the main roads. When it was dark, we set up camp near a deserted beach in Manzanillo._

_That was another mistake I made. I panicked and boxed us in by heading for the coast when I should have gone in the other direction. Every single hotel from El Tuito to Aquila would have seen our pictures by then. Martinez probably used the photos from my own fucking phone. We should’ve headed for Guadalajara just like Star said. I’m sorry, Cable. Code 22. If I had taken it seriously, Star would still alive. He’d be alive and we’d still be kicking ass instead of him lying there like-like- Oh god. You wouldn’t believe what they did to him ... How he looks- I’m so goddamn sorry, you have absolutely no idea. I got my best friend killed and really, he was so much more than that by then. But I know you already knew that. So did I. But Star didn’t_ _and that’s why the shit went down the way it did. All because of me-_

 

* * *

Julio started several MRE packets cooking and then went in search of his partner. They were camped near the tree line in a secluded cove and Star had wandered a short distance down the beach. Ric easily followed the tracks in the sand and found him sitting near the shoreline, watching the night sky over the black expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Such large bodies of water simply mystified him. They didn’t exist on Mojoworld. When he had first laid eyes on the Gulf Coast from the city of Tampico where Cable had dropped them off, he had looked over at Ric and flashed him such an amazed, awe-struck grin that it had made the older teen’s heart skip a beat. With his long red hair blown back from the Gulf breeze, he had looked so handsome that the image permanently got stuck in Julio’s mind. During that single instant, Shatterstar had been absolutely perfect. Happy.  _Alive._

He wasn’t smiling now. The moon was about three-quarters full and provided plenty of light for Julio to make out his features. His skin was normally pale, but in this eldritch light he looked almost grey. Unnatural. Dead. He wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be blinking. 

“I've got some meals heating up,” Ric said, when he found the voice to speak. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Star-“ Julio’s voice broke and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Please don’t be mad at me.” 

As if pulled out of a spell, Star blinked and looked up at him in confusion. “I’m not angry with you, Julio. I could _never_ be angry with you." 

Ric wasn’t sure if his knees buckled or if he just decided it was a good time to sit down, but he ended up in the sand beside his boyfriend just the same. He leaned his shoulder against the Mojoworlder and considered the view. All that empty space seemed intimidating to a city boy like him. He looked up and saw a shooting star and said, “Quick! Make a wish!” 

“Why?” 

“It’s an Earth thing: Making a wish on a falling star. You’re supposed to keep it to yourself.” 

The alien was still looking at him, utterly perplexed. “What would I wish for? I already have everything I could ever want.” 

Julio looked around at him in surprise and Star leaned in and kissed him. It was rare for him to take the initiative because Julio had made it clear that they were never to do this in public where someone might see them. This time, Ric accepted the gesture with relief. He opened his mouth to let their kiss deepen and they made out in the darkness on that deserted beach; trading adoring kisses and grasping muscled flesh but not straying much further than that. It was all the intimacy they could manage after such a stressful day; just enough to reinforce how much they truly cared for each other. 

Star drew back a little and pulled the heavy bangs away from Julio’s eyes to see them better. “ _Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo_ ,” he murmured in Cadre. 

Recognition dawned in Ric’s face. It was the same thing the alien had told him on their first day in the State Park after they’d had sex and were reveling in their new-found freedom together. Star had told him he would understand once he knew the Mojoverse tongue and Ric translated it easily in his head right now: _’My soul sings when you’re close_.’ He blinked in surprise. “Wow, Star. That-that’s almost poetic coming from you.” 

Star flashed him a small smile that looked almost shy. “Remember the story I told you of the two Cadre soldiers? The pair that shared a liaison before the female sacrificed herself on a suicide mission against the Imperial Protectorate?” 

“Yeah, I remember you telling me that.” 

“I heard Ravage say that to her and she repeated it back. I did not understand the significance of the exchange at that time. Now I do.” He looked closely at the other teen in the pale light, his tattooed left eye glowing slightly. It appeared as if he was waiting for something. 

Ric floundered. He cleared his throat and ended up saying, “I guess supper should be just about ready, huh?” 

There was a flash of emotion on Star’s face, but it was too dark for Ric to properly decipher it. The alien got to his feet and wordlessly walked back to their camp with Julio in tow.

 

* * *

_I dropped the ball._

_Star had as much as told me that he loved me and I didn’t say it back. Not in Cadre. Not in Spanish. Not in English. I barely even acknowledged what he said. I think that’s when he made the decision to do what he did. I don’t think it was out of anger. I think it was like what you said to me at the park: That he would die for me. He wanted to perform the last act of protection for what he must’ve thought was a one-sided partnership by then. Mojo used him, the Cadre used him, so did you. When I didn’t say those words back, I think he just figured it was the same with me against my relatives and decided to cut his losses._

_He knocked me out after we ate our meals and took off. He got more info out of Geraldo than he had let on. He knew exactly where Martinez and his crew had set up their base of operations while they looked for us, so he went there and took the fight straight to them. It was just like he wanted to do until I put a stop to it. If we had done it together, none of this would have turned out the way it did._

_Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo. That’s all I had to say. Now instead of singing, my soul is dead waiting for the rest of me to catch up._

_Soon._

_Once I finish writing down what happened. Then the pain will stop._

_Oh god, it hurts so much-_

* * *

Shatterstar managed to slaughter almost three-quarters of Martinez’s highly trained squad before the rest brought him down with stun grenades. Even then, they still lost two more men during the transport to the deserted warehouse where Jake was waiting along with his boss Gabriel. The van they’d used now had several visible dents along its reinforced sides from the one time Star had managed to break free of his restraints. 

“He killed Estobar,” one of the men was saying as he and the three other survivors roughly dropped the alien at the mercenary’s feet. “Punched him so hard half his face exploded. Never saw nothing like it.” 

Star was wheezing from his exertions at this point. His entire upper body was wrapped tightly in chains and his ankles were handcuffed together. He looked up and fixed Gabriel Richter with such a withering look of hatred that it managed to penetrate the crime lord’s usual indifference in such matters. 

“Look at that fury, Jake,” he remarked in a controversial tone. “You ever see anybody that pissed-off before?” 

“Yes. Lately, whenever I look in the mirror,” the hitman growled, hunkering down to be closer to the furious warrior. He pulled a butterfly knife out of his back pocket and made an elaborate show of playing with the blade before pointing it at Star’s face. “Nice job you did carving up the Silver Fox. I had to put Geraldo out of his misery.” 

“He was a pathetic excuse for a human,” Star said, baring teeth that were stained pink with blood. Martinez’s men had attacked him with the butts of their rifles as he lay stunned and he had several internal injuries that were trying to heal. He suspected a ruptured spleen was on the list but knew, very soon, it wasn’t going to matter. “Told me everything I needed to know. Screamed like a woman at the end of it.” He finished the last with a pained rictus that looked suspiciously like a mocking grin. 

Martinez’s lips became two pale lines in anger as gripped a handful of Star’s hair and pointed the tip of his knife a mere centimeter from the teen’s left eye. “So will you be in a few seconds. Where’s Julio hiding?” 

“Fekt you, vehjka.” 

The blade slipped in. Star’s body contorted in agony. Jake asked again: “Where’s Julio?” 

Star deliberately spat a wad of bloody phlegm on the mercenary’s boot. The blade went into his other eye. The question was asked over and over and the assaults continued but Star refused to betray his best friend. 

It went on for almost an hour. 

“Enough,” Gabriel finally said, staring down at the shivering, bloody mess lying on the floor with an expression of distaste. Even he had his limits. “He’s not gonna talk, Jake.” 

“Aw hell, I knew that after gouging out his eyeballs. The rest was just for kicks,” the merc rumbled with satisfaction, wiping sweat from his brow. Torture was hard, exhausting work. “For a kid, he’s one tough motherfucker. I’ll give him that much. Shame he worked for your nephew. He would’ve had a longer life expectancy working for you.” 

“That’s the truth. Finish him off the way we discussed. Hooly will find him sooner or later. Let him make the next move. I imagine he’ll take the hint and back off.” 

“You sure you don’t want us to stay here and try to capture him?” 

Gabriel looked at him as if he was crazy. “Capture him how? That redheaded prick only left you with four men out of a squad of twenty. And he did it with just those stupid swords,” he nodded to where the two bloody weapons were lying by the far wall. “My nephew’s an Alpha-class mutant who can move fuckin mountains. When he sees the pieces of his friend, he’ll probably go nuclear. You wanna be around for _that?_ ” 

Martinez had heard about Julio’s power releases in Guadalajara and San Francisco and his investigation into the teenager and X-Force had made it clear that none of the members were to be taken lightly. It was plain that he had underestimated the one called Shatterstar, not expecting such extreme losses from the mutant listed as the lowest-ranked powerset of the bunch. Obviously, his data on the redhead had been severely flawed (and heads would roll for that lapse). If the pair had attacked together, there would have been a completely different outcome. He recognized a lucky escape when he saw one. “No, sir,” he said obediently. He made a ‘hurry up’ gesture to his surviving men and they picked up the gear that was all gassed and primed and ready to go. 

The instant Shatterstar heard the first chainsaw sputter and roar to life, he struggled to his feet, eliciting a low murmur from Gabriel that sounded oddly like respect. The chains and hand-cuffs had been removed during the course of the torture, allowing the mercenary to stab him in various areas that weren’t immediately life threatening. There were forty-two in all across his chest, arms, stomach, legs, and groin. He had extensive internal damage, he was blind and, just for the hell of it, the merc had dug out a few fingernails. Star extended his arms and the swords flew into his hands where he grabbed the hilts with bloody fingers, holding them up in a defensive posture. 

Martinez regarded him solemnly for a few seconds and then left with his boss. Before he passed through the back door, he barked, “Fire them up, boys!” 

The four men revved up their chain saws and approached the dying warrior. Over the racket, nobody could hear Star humming until it was too late for all five of them.

 

* * *

_By the time I pulled into the town of Manzanillo and saw the first fire truck haul ass past me, I knew it had to do with Star. I just knew. I kept pace with a police car and followed it to an old warehouse that must have once held parade floats or something. The entire side was blown out, knocking a van over where it had exploded, setting the shit on fire. The police had the area cordoned off, but I saw the body with the bloody sheet pulled over it lying near the building. I just reacted. I was vibrating with power even before I got out of the truck. When I set foot on the asphalt, I rocked the entire area with a massive quake. Anybody who came near me, I blew them back with a seismic pulse. Didn’t even check to see if they were okay. Didn’t care. All I was looking at was that bloody sheet._

_When I knelt down to pull it back, I saw it wasn’t Star. It was one of Martinez’s men with half his body blown away. There were three others who looked just like him when I entered the building. The inside was one massive crater. Star had used that shockwave power of his, but he had really cut loose with it. I didn’t think he was even capable of releasing such a powerful blast. When I finally found him, I found out why._

_He had already been beaten, stabbed, had his eyes cut out, and Martinez decided that it still wasn’t enough. He had his men attack him with chain saws. His right arm was just about cut off and there was a gouge in his left thigh that had cut through the femoral artery. Someone nailed him in the area between his neck and shoulder and the saw chewed straight down almost a foot. I ... I could see into him. He released his mutant power as a desperate last resort and it blew the four attackers apart. It also blew off both his hands._

_Worst of it all, he was still alive-_

 

* * *

“...Star...? G-Gav...?” Rictor walked slowly towards the vaguely human shape that was lying in a pool of blood. At the sound of his voice, the figure stirred and managed to drag his head around in search of the source. Julio took one look at the bloody holes where his best friend’s eyes had been and screamed. He fell backwards on the still-smoldering concrete and screamed like a lost soul and the earth reacted to his overwhelming grief and buckled and lurched all around them. Part of the warehouse, already structurally damaged, collapsed with a squeal of twisted metal. A girder about ten feet long fell right beside him and he didn’t notice, too intent at staring at what remained of his cherished lover. 

Star’s lips were moving and he made a gurgling, pained sound that Ric recognized as; “Jul-lio.” That got him moving again. 

There wasn’t a spot on the Mojoworlder that wasn’t bleeding. In a daze, Ric took off his belt and cinched it tight around the wounded left leg in a vain effort to staunch the blood flow gushing from the severed artery. There was really no point doing it, but by now the Mexican was operating solely on instinct. Star’s right arm was hanging together above the elbow by a piece of gristle and the gouge down into his chest was pumping blood that was almost black in color. The stumps of his wrists were black and looked cauterized from the power release and, dimly, Ric saw the shards of white otherworldy metal scattered around them that were the remains of the warrior’s swords. “What can I do?” Ric moaned. _“Oh god, Star, tell me what I can do!”_  

Choking on a mouthful of blood, the alien coughed and rasped out, “... beach...” 

“You-you... want to go to the beach?” 

Star managed a palsied, trembling nod. 

“Christ! Screw the beach! You need to go to the hospital! You need-“ Ric faltered. What could a hospital do for him? There was no blood type that would match. The damage was too extensive for them to fix. The hospital staff would take one look at him and seal him in a body bag. “O-okay. Okay. The beach. Sure, Gav. I’ll take you back to that beach we were at. The deserted one with the warm white sand-” He was aware that he was babbling and simply couldn’t stop. He tried picking Star up, failing on the first attempt as the blood-soaked body slithered through his arms. Close to vomiting, Julio managed on the second try, standing up on trembling legs. Star had lost a great deal of blood (not to mention several body parts) but he seemed unusually heavy at that moment. The words ‘dead weight’ came to Ric’s mind and he forced the shock-shrouded thoughts aside with difficulty. 

He left the warehouse and returned to where he had parked the truck. He was approached several times by police or paramedics and he mentally made the ground contort to knock them away, barely aware of doing it. He deposited Star in the flatbed as gently as he could and drove away. One police car tried to pursue. Ric glanced at the rearview mirror and made a huge sinkhole appear in the road behind him that almost swallowed the cruiser. He drove straight to the beach without being followed. 

Approaching the back of the truck, he was fairly certain that he would find Star dead. The alien was lying in a contorted ball, his blood coating the flatbed and it was dripping through the seams at the bottom of the tailgate. When Ric lowered it, Star jerked at the sound and gargled wetly in his throat, spitting up dark blood. Julio lost control of his gorge and threw up in the grass. He almost passed out but managed to pull himself together with the barest threads of self-control. He pulled his friend out of the back and carried him down the beach, not stopping until they were at the spot where they had made out seven hours before. 

He laid Star’s head in his lap and pulled the blood-soaked strands of hair away from the warrior’s face. The chainsaws had chopped through that thick mane and the pony-tail was now half of its previous length. “The sun’s coming up,” he whispered in a choked, hoarse voice. “I-I know you can’t see it, but it looks beautiful. Listen, Star. Listen to me. Are you listening?” 

Star moved a bare fraction in Julio’s arms and then went very still. 

“ _Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo_ ,” Ric told him, speaking very slowly. “ _Te amo._ _Te quiero con todo mi corazón._ I love you, Gaveedra. I’m sorry I never said it sooner. I wanted to. I’ve wanted to tell you that since that first night we spent together before I ever left for Mexico. I love you. Do ... did you hear me? ... Gav? _Star?!_ ” 

The alien wasn’t moving. Julio pressed trembling fingers at the angle of Star’s jaw searching for a pulse.

 

* * *

_There wasn’t one. He died right after I asked him to listen to me. He never heard what I said. I can’t bear the thought that he died not knowing how I really felt for him. It tears me apart that he died thinking I used him. That his love for me was one-sided. I can’t live knowing that, Cable. I just- I can’t._

_Tell everyone that I’m sorry and that they all meant the world to me. Get that fucker Martinez and all three of my uncles, too, if you can. Kill them slow for the both of us. Sorry to saddle you with that shit but, when all is said and done, I guess you’re about as close to a father-figure as I know. How sad is that? I think I’d laugh at the irony if I was capable of it._

_I guess I’ve stalled long enough. I’ve got work to do. I’ll leave the phone on and you can ping the GPS to find my body. Bury me beside Star, please. It’s what I want._

_Thanks so much. I never said it to you before. I’m sorry. Thank you, Cable. For everything._

_-Rictor_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The theft of Ric's cell happened in A Year in Review - Chapter 13.


	6. A Second Chance

Julio had been sitting with his back to Star’s dead body pecking out his suicide note on his phone for over two hours. The rising sun was warm on his back. He could hear the gentle lapping of small waves brushing the beach. The cries of seagulls were far down the shoreline. It all seemed distant and inconsequential. He signed his letter off with his code name; so much more a representation of his identity than the one he had been given at birth. At this point in time, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the “Richter” family name. It was just another word for murder to him now. 

He laid the phone down in his lap and simply stared at it, looking at the “Send” button. He glanced over his shoulder at what remained of his best friend and the floodgates finally broke. Pressing his fists to his eyes, he released an anguished wail that made the seagulls down the beach take to the air. The ground around him vibrated as he howled out his grief and pain and misery until his voice was hoarse and his eyes were burning and his face was a mask of tears and snot. Nothing in his young life had ever made him feel as terrible as he did right at that moment. The torture he’d endured from The Right didn’t even compare to the agony currently enveloping his heart and soul. He had to make it stop. He had to end this terrible, body-numbing pain. 

In the jungle, not far from where they were, was a cluster of palm trees that had grown in a rough circle around a small clearing. In the center, Ric had used his powers to gouge out two deep holes in the earth large enough for a pair of grave sites. One of them was for Star’s body. The other, if Cable followed his instructions, was for him. 

“I’m ready to go, buddy,” he whispered, wiping his face with his soiled shirt. He was calm now. In his mind, this grisly business was already done and he would soon be at peace. “Let’s get you all nice and settled and then I’ll join you. What d'you say?” 

He wasn’t expecting any sort of answer. He picked up the cell phone and his thumb hovered over the ‘Send’ button. Just before he pressed it, a shadow suddenly appeared in the corner of his eye. As he watched, completely frozen in shock, that dark shape began advancing towards him. 

He whirled around and the phone tumbled from numb fingers, falling to the sand. “You-“ was all he managed to rasp out before the point of a sword stopped a millimeter from his throat. Even though the intruder's features were indecipherable with the sun directly at its back, the silhouette of that svelte body and six arms was unmistakable. 

Spiral glared at him and spoke a rapid, high-pitched sequence of words that sounded more like melodic notes than any form of recognizable speech capable of coming from a normal throat. Not that there was anything natural about Spiral. Not anymore. Once, she had been human before Mojo twisted her mind just as he had transformed her body, making her powerful and majestic and just as insane as her bloated master. 

When Ric didn’t answer, she raised her blade to cut his head off. He forced her back with a desperate seismic pulse, screaming; “ _It wasn’t me! I didn’t do that to him!_ ” 

Soulless white eyes regarded him somberly beneath the helm of the horned helmet she wore. She appeared to consider Ric’s blood-soaked clothes and then his words before responding in perfect English. “Who is responsible?” She asked in a low, dangerous tone. One of her cybernetic arms made a gesture at the mutilated corpse behind her. 

“A man working for my uncle. We were trying to stop his gunrunning business. Shatterstar faced a group of his men alone and they did-did _that_.” He nodded weakly at the prone form of his friend. The once-pristine white sand around the Mojoworlder’s body was now a congealed crimson. 

The entity known as the Time Dancer cast the mutant one last, suspicious look and then went and examined Star more closely. She began speaking that keening, sing-song language again as she examined his wounds, fingers stroking lightly over the many sites of his injuries. To Ric, the plaintive notes sounded suspiciously like anguish. When she bent to pick up the body, he fired another shot at her. This time she was prepared for it. Two of her arms undulated in a rhythmic gesture and the blast went completely around her body and came back and knocked Julio off of his feet. 

It was the first time he had ever been the victim of his own power. Stunned, he lied in the sand for a few seconds before clambering back to his feet. In that incredibly short span of time, Spiral disappeared. 

And she had taken Shatterstar’s body with her. 

 _“NO!”_ Ric screamed, falling to his knees. He stared at the bloody depression in the ground and started crying again. “No, not-not without me...” He sobbed into his hands and finally succumbed to his overwhelming shock and exhaustion. He curled into a quaking, miserable ball and slipped into merciful unconsciousness. As he did so, his hands grasped desperate fistfuls of the sandy-red remnants that were all that remained of his dead friend. 

An unknown length of time passed before he reluctantly pulled out of that comforting blackness. For a split second, he was actually thinking the events of the day had all been some terrible nightmare until he looked down at the bloody sand. He moaned in despair. The tide was coming in, lapping at the spot where Shatterstar had died so many hours before. The water was crimson when it retreated. Soon, even this grisly evidence that Star had ever been on Earth at all would be gone; washed away and forgotten. 

“Not fair,” Ric said, slamming a fist into the dirt and starting to cry again. _“It’s not fair!”_  

“What fool ever told you that life was fair?” commented a serene voice from behind him. 

Whirling around in shock, Julio saw that Spiral was back. She was sitting on a partially buried tree stump with her legs neatly crossed as if she was in an office rather than a Mexican beach. She was looking at something in one of her many hands and, dimly, Ric realized that she was holding his phone and reading the letter he had written. At the dumbfounded expression on his face, she said in amusement, “A tragic tale of love and loss. Can I give this to Mojo? He might make a movie out of it. The angst is just oh, so heart wrenchingly _delicious!_ ” 

“Give that back, you bitch!” 

“Temper, temper.” She gripped the phone tightly and, before the Mexican’s stunned eyes, broke it into several pieces, scattering them to the sand. “He would actually have no use for it. Not anymore. An amateur work of fiction and poorly written at that.” 

“Fuck you. It happened,” Rictor told her, getting to his feet. His hands were clasped into fists and beginning to glow. “Shatterstar’s dead.” God, it hurt to say those two words. His heart seemed to lurch in his chest and skip a beat just at the mere thought. 

Her full, ruby lips turned up into a gloating smile. “Dead by your world's primitive standards. Salvageable by mine.” 

Ric blinked at her. He thought of how Star had last looked as he lay dying in his lap: His eyes gouged out, stabbed, mutilated, almost all of his blood gone because of the totality of the damage. Ric wanted to utter a denial but, even more, he so wanted it to be true. “He-he’s ... _alive?_ ” He managed to croak. 

Spiral looked away and the Mexican followed her gaze. Standing a fair distance down the shoreline was a lone figure cloaked in white and grey. That long red pony-tail trailing back above his padded helmet from the ocean breeze was instantly recognizable. It was Shatterstar. He was dressed in the uniform he'd been wearing when he first arrived on Earth in the Xavier mansion Danger Room fifteen months earlier. 

Powering down, Rictor took a faltering step forwards and then hesitated. He glanced suspiciously over at Spiral. “Is this some kind of joke? Is he, like, Gaveedra battle model number _Eight?_ ” 

“Are you trying to ask me if he’s a clone?” 

“Yeah, I guess I am.” 

She sniffed in disdain. “There are enough of _them_ running around already.” 

“Huh?” 

Spiral didn’t answer, looking at him. Her pale eyes betrayed no emotion other than acute boredom, as if she had weathered this line of questioning once already. Perhaps even more times than that. Ric gave his head a shake and fought to get back to the matter at hand. “You deal in cybernetics, if I heard Cable right-“ 

“A fine person to speak of such things,” she sniffed. 

“Is Star a-a cyborg now?” 

“You mean, because of the loss of his hands and eyes?” 

“That's exactly what I mean.” 

“No. His system rejects such mechanics. A perplexing by-product of his-“ She had been poised to say more and then switched tracks and said instead: “I had to tweak his healing factor in order to grow new ones from his own flesh. He is as he was, although understandably confused by the process. He was in stasis for two years.” 

Ric gaped at her and then looked wildly around. “ _Shit!_ How long have I been asleep?!” 

“Six hours for you, human fool,” she snapped. “I went back in time to my Body Shoppe, put him in a stasis tank of healing gel and retrieved him after the process was complete. It took far longer than it should have. He has suffered extensive damage. Up here.” She pointed to her temple. “Someone tampered with his trademark.” 

Ric wasn’t sure about the terminology but he got the gist of what she was saying. “A prick named the Gamesmaster planted another consciousness in his head. Some kid named Benjamin Russell.” 

“It compromised his mutative powerset.” 

“Yeah, he became a teleporter for awhile.” 

Spiral betrayed a shocked, amazed smile. “You don’t say?” There was a puzzling hint of pride to her voice. 

“It worked a lot better than that shockwave power he was stuck with. The guys who designed him really fucked up that ability. It’s _never_ worked right.” 

Her face tightened up again. “Granted, it _was_ a flawed deviation, but not the fault of the Whitecoats,” Spiral told him, an expression of resentment evident on her face. It gave Ric the impression that he was being left out of the loop of something extremely important but had absolutely no clue what that could be. “Regardless, the telepathic meddling was too extensive for even me to completely repair. I did what I could.” 

“I’m not knocking it. Believe me, I’m not, but ... Why did you bring him back _here_? Why not take him back to Mojo? He’s your boss, right?” 

Spiral went back to staring at him with a withering, hateful glare. Prior to that, she had looked at ease with him, almost approachable. Now, two of her arms flailed about in anger while the other four clenched into tight fists. “Fekt Mojo! _Fekt his orders!_ Shatterstar has not yet completed the role destiny intended. If you do not want him, we can leave and-“ 

 _“NO!”_ Julio shouted, bringing his hands up in supplication. “No, don’t! _Please!_ Thank you. I don’t know why you did it. I don’t care. Thank you for bringing him back. He’s-” He swallowed and then remembered that she had read his letter and knew _everything_. “I love him,” he finished in a small voice, blushing. 

The rage passed on her pale face and she was calm again. “You are imprinted on his uemeur. I’m not so sure if it is a blessing or a taint, only time will tell. Of that, I am sure. You will not find him as he was, Rictor, but perhaps your familiarity will help with what is lacking.” 

Ric didn’t like the sound of that one little bit. “What’re you talking about? What- _Hey!_ ” 

Four of her arms began those weaving, undulating movements and she disappeared from view without any further comment; slipping back into the time stream as easily as a person slid into a pool of water that had no bottom. It was eerily soundless. The only remainder of her presence was a pair of imprints left in the sand by her boots. 

 _No_ , Ric corrected himself, looking over to the far side of the beach where that figure in white was still standing. _That isn’t true. She left something else behind. Someone really important_ - 

“Gav,” he whispered. His eyes began welling up with grateful tears and he wiped the moisture away and slowly walked down the shoreline. He really wanted to run. To break out in a mad sprint and tackle that figure and smother his face (and body) in grateful kisses. A small, suspicious part managed to hold him back: He was half-expecting that presence of Shatterstar to be some sort of illusion; some sick phantasm of Mojo’s created for some extra entertainment at his expense. Then he thought of Spiral’s anger, as well as something else. There had been something in her conduct that almost resembled some sort of possessiveness of Star. And what had been that spiel about destiny? 

He finally reached the Mojoworlder’s side, almost holding his breath as he carefully examined the other young man making sure everything was supposed to be the way it had been. The height was the same. His hair no longer sun-bleached and back to that blazing, vibrant red. As the alien stared at the expanse of the Pacific Ocean as if in a daze, Ric noted his profile was as sharp and handsome as ever. His brown eyes trailed lovingly down the straight line of that nose, lingering on those full lips he enjoyed kissing so much, and dropped to that defined, lantern jaw. Words utterly failed him at this point, so he reached out and poked the alien’s shoulder instead. “Hey.“ 

That broke the spell. Shatterstar whirled around, caught sight of him, and all of a sudden Ric was kicked in the stomach by a grey boot and sent flying several feet away. He fell, rolled with the momentum, and came back up and found the point of a sword aimed at his chest. It was a different design than the broadswords he had destroyed in the warehouse. This one resembled the weapons Spiral seemed to favor; lethal Japanese katanas. There was another strapped to his back. 

 _“[Peace.]”_ Ric managed to say. He wanted to massage his aching stomach but kept his hands up until he could gauge the mental state of his friend. So far, it didn’t look very promising. _“[I’m not looking for a fight. Calm down.]”_  

Star blinked at him in surprise. _“[You speak Cadre. Are you with the Blood Alliance, too?]”_  

Oh, this was _so_ not looking good. _“[No. You haven’t been involved with them for over fifteen months.]”_

 _“[How do I know this is not some scheme of Mojo's to catch me off my guard? Where am I?]”_ He snarled. 

“You’re on planet Earth. You have to believe me. How ... how much do you remember?” he spoke in English, hoping it would trigger some memory flash. 

The surprise that Star understood him was plain on his face. So was his confusion. He lowered the sword, but did not sheathe it. Not yet. He cast his surroundings a wary glance as his red brows furrowed in thought. He was silent for a long time. Ric chose to wait and not rush him. He was overjoyed to see him alive but devastated by the lack of recognition. He really wasn’t sure what he was feeling at this particular point. His emotions were such a jumbled mess that all he could do was struggle not to cry in front of him. “I was sent back to gather the forces of X,” Star said at last, his accent appreciably thick. “I battled ... someone. Several someones. I recall a mean, old-“ he spoke the Cadre word “jai’tre” which Ric translated as “bastard”. “The others looked to have lived about as many seasons as I had. They were mutants. They were of the X, but not those I sought.” 

“You joined them. The mean, old jai’tre called the group X-Force.” 

 _“Bai._ X-Force.” Star was nodding now, casting Ric a look that could almost pass as familiarity. “You joined us.” 

“Yes,” Julio whispered. He swallowed as he stared up at the taller teen, his throat so dry it felt like he had just eaten dirt. He waited ... and waited ... 

... and _finally_ it came. “Rictor. Your name is Rictor.” 

Ric burst into tears when he heard that. He couldn’t help it. The bewildered, almost horrified expression Star gave him as he wept would have been absolutely hilarious at any other time. _"_ _Lo siento_ ," the Mexican muttered, self-consciously wiping his eyes. _"_ _Estoy teniendo un muy,_ muy _mal dia."_  

 _"No te preocupes,"_ the alien immediately responded and he recoiled in surprise. "What language is that?!" 

"Spanish. You've been fluent for quite awhile." 

" _Yo hablo español ... Bueno, que me aspen._ " There was such a wondering look of amazement on Star's face, as well as what he said, that it managed to rouse a smile out of Ric at long last. 

"Man, it's so good to see you again." 

"Was I gone for long?" 

"I guess it depends on your perspective." Ric wondered how much he should say and had never been one to mince words. He knew from experience that Star didn't appreciate stalling tactics either, and always favored the direct approach to things whether it was combat or conversation. He decided to tell his best friend the truth. "You died this morning." 

The follow-up question was predictable. "Was it from battle?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"Why was I brought back?" 

"I don't really know." _And I don't really care_ , he wanted to say. 

"How?" 

"Not how. Who." Ric bent down and drew a spiral in the sand, knowing that the alien didn't like to hear the name spoken out loud. The six-armed time traveler always seemed to know when her name was uttered, especially from someone from the Mojoverse. When he saw Star's eyes widen in shock, he quickly rubbed it out. "She took you back to her lab and healed you. Said it took two years in stasis and that's why your memories are jumbled." 

Swallowing nervously, the alien gripped his free sword in a panicked grip and looked around, scanning the beach and tree line for any trace they might be being watched. "She is an agent of Mojo," he said in a low voice, almost whispering. "Why didn't she just give me back to him?" 

"I asked the same question. She got really defensive about it. About you. I get the feeling she was protecting you from him." 

Star scowled. "Her personal motives are never clearly understood. She battles Mojo's authority whenever his control lapses. Once, she aided the Cadre in battle. Later, she fought us. She is unpredictable. Crazed. We should be away from this place just in case she is forced to change her mind and comes back for me." 

Rictor felt his anxiety and shared it. "I think we're kind of between a rock and a hard place there." 

Shatterstar looked at him in confusion. "I don't understand that expression." 

"It means we're trapped." Julio explained the situation involving his relatives and the hit and run tactics they had successfully managed up until yesterday, when it all fell to pieces in the warehouse. Ric told him about that, too. He was met with that doubting, suspicious look from the warrior and the Mexican reluctantly led him back to where the truck was hidden in the dense foliage. It wasn't hard to find. All they had to do was follow the sound of flies feasting on the congealed blood that coated the flatbed. Star looked at the amount of it with obvious shock but still wasn’t entirely convinced. He ran a finger over a crusted remain and tasted it. That erased the last of his doubts. "I died here." It was more of a statement than a question, but Ric responded just the same. 

"No. I carried you down a ways to the beach before you-y'know, passed on." His voice hoarsened and the tears threatened to come again. It didn't help when Star clasped his shoulder with a strong grip. 

"I am accustomed to dying alone. The presence of a fellow warrior was a welcome comfort. _Datreb_ , Rictor." 

"Julio. Please, just-you can call me Julio." 

“Gaveedra Seven.” 

“Gesundheit.” 

“No, you don’t-" A strange look came over Star's face and he released a startled grunt. "We have had this conversation before. We-" He appeared puzzled again, frowning at some other memory that surfaced and looked at Ric thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side. He appeared about to say something, hesitated, and then deliberately looked away, changing the subject. "If you do not want to drive, we can hike out of here. Along that expanse of water would be best." 

"Sure," Ric said, feeling like some sort of opportunity had come and gone. He looked down at his clothes which were stiff from Star’s dried blood. "I'll change and then go pack our gear." 

He pulled some belongings out of the truck cab and disappeared into the tent. A few minutes after, he emerged wearing different clothes and began dismantling it. While he did that, Star took advantage of the lapse and thoroughly reconnoitered the area. He studied the pattern of footsteps in the sand and found the remains of where he had died. The ocean had all but claimed that bloody depression. He tasted a few red grains of dirt and identified the unique tang of his own blood. He stared at the disturbed earth with a troubled frown before a glint of sunlight reflecting from something caught his eye and saw the remains of some sort of electronic device. He carefully gathered all the pieces and placed them in one of the many compartments of his belt before moving further into the jungle, still tracking the footsteps of his ally Rictor. It wasn't long before he found the two graves. 

When a slave died in the battle domes, the bodies were discarded like garbage and incinerated. The Cadre left the bodies of their dead soldiers where they fell. Shatterstar did not understand this earth ritual of burial, but supposed he could appreciate the sentiment. What he didn't understand was why there were two sites. He hunkered down where it looked like Rictor had sat for awhile. He tried to puzzle it out, sorting through the chaos in his mind that involved memories all scattered about in no particular order and containing odd blanks. Virtually all of it appeared reserved to the time he had spent on this world. His memories of his seventeen seasons in the Mojoverse were amazingly clear. What he recalled of earth was a disturbing tableau of battles against foes he could not remember the names to (at least, not yet), seemingly endless training drills with his teammates, environments entirely different than the barren terrains of Mojoworld, and- 

His head jerked up in shock. He was processing a rogue memory that could only have originated during his time on this planet. It was a thing that certainly would have never occurred to him on Mojoworld. That was a dimension committed to endless battle, slavery, and survival. This one memory was not of violence. It was the complete opposite. This one memory ... 

No, not just one. The fog in his mind was clearing as he began readjusting to this place and time. There was more than just that rough image to draw on for reference. A _lot_ more. He got slowly to his feet and looked off in the direction where Ric was breaking down their camp. _"Ky. Za's Vid,"_ he murmured in a shaken voice. 

Rictor was cramming the last of his clothes into one swollen, overloaded backpack when Shatterstar returned. He greeted the alien with a shy smile. "Hey, just in time. Which way do you want to do?" 

"You know this terrain best," Star responded. He sounded calm and both swords were strapped to his back. He looked Julio directly in the eye as he asked, "What's your recommendation?" 

"Well, we came from the south so-" 

"South it is." 

"But-" 

"Forces expect the prey to flee in the opposite direction of a skirmish. The logic is sound not to pursue that predictable pattern." 

"I won't argue with you." If Ric had simply gone along with Star's earlier plan of attacking his relatives head-on in Guadalajara, they probably wouldn’t be in this bewildering situation of having to get to know each all other again. He wasn't going to dispute his friend's strategic reasoning a second time. Not today. 

He bent to pick up his bag and Star picked up both heavy packs and shouldered them easily. "Hey! I can carry my own shit." 

"You have defecated into your possessions?" Star passed him a leery, disgusted look. 

Ric gaped at him and then burst out laughing. "It's just an expression, amigo." 

"Oh," the alien said with acute relief, beginning to walk off. "I thought-" 

"I know what you thought," Ric said, smiling, and hiked a thumb over his right shoulder. "And south is in that direction." 

"Oh," Star said again, turning around. As he passed by, Julio could have sworn he saw the slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. The padded helmet made it hard to tell for sure. 

" _Me alegro de mucho verte de nuevo_ ," Ric whispered under his breath. 

Even though, by now, he was over ten feet away and making ground quickly, Star still heard him and responded with, " _Gracias_." 

It was just as well that they headed south, Ric reasoned as the day lengthened and they walked in step (with him having to hurry a little more to catch up, and Star having to slow his pace to let the smaller teenager do so). Manzanillo was a tourist town and the beaches to the north were peppered with All-Inclusive resorts all starting with the exotic titles of "Playa de-" and those resorts were very observant and protective of who passed through their property, potentially disturbing their pampered clientele. Julio, in his shorts, T-shirt and sandals, obviously passed for a native. Star was still in his full Mojoverse regalia. With his weapons, costume, and flowing long hair, he stood out like a sore thumb. They came across one resort, cut across the landscaped grounds of a golf course as if skirting a war zone, and were back to having the beach to themselves for awhile. 

As they walked together in companionable silence, Ric thought about something Star had said earlier and mulled it over in his head for a long time before finally blurting out: "Did you die before?" 

 _"As'io?"_  

 _"[Did you die before?]"_ Ric asked again in Cadre. 

_"[Why are you asking?]"_

_"[When we were looking at the truck, you said you were used to dying alone. Now that I think about it, you're being really calm about the whole thing. That wasn't a first time for you, was it?]"_  

Star shook his head. _"[No. I have been brought back many times. The sheer number eludes me.]"_  

Ric pulled him to a stop. "How the hell is that even possible?" he said, reverting to English again because he figured the alien needed the refresher. "You told me you were an undefeated star of the Slaughter Games. Dying kinda negates the whole victory status, doesn't it?" 

"Not in a dimension where physics are ruled by science and magic. And being victorious in an arena battle simply meant being the last one still breathing when the show ended and the credits began to roll. I always managed to survive and expire _after,_ " he said this with a trace of lofty arrogance and a great deal of pride. "My contract dictated survival assurances. As the victor, the Whitecoats had to revive and heal me in time for the next performance." 

"Then why the hell did it take two years-" Ric caught himself. "It's because you died on Earth, isn't it? This is a dimension where magic doesn’t exist, except in small pockets. That's why it took so long for Spi-" 

 _"D'ha!"_ Star cried in alarm. 

"-For _her_ to heal you.” 

"I'm amazed she was successful, truth be told. It must have taken an enormous amount of spell casting to call my uemeur back to this body on this plane. It is perplexing why she made all that effort on my behalf," Star admitted, looking at his hands. He had removed his gloves shortly after they began their hike. His hands were pale and unmarked and devoid of calluses. Brand new. He had been studying them a lot while they walked along the shore. His vision seemed improved with his new eyes; colors appeared more vibrant, shapes more defined, his depth perception was perfect. He looked at Ric and attempted a faltering smile. "I am not ungrateful." 

"Me neither. I thanked her," Julio admitted. "She seemed pleased to hear me say it. I don't think gratitude is something you guys get much of in the Mojoverse." 

"No, it isn't," the alien said, thinking of the Cadre and of the missions he had carried out on their orders and never once receiving a simple 'Thank you' for being successful. He hadn’t cared about that lapse then but, now, felt a bewildering sense of resentment. And a little bit of anger. "They all used me: Mojo and his entourage. The Blood Cadre. Even-" The mean, old jai’tre now had a name he could draw on, "Cable. He used me, too." 

"I didn't," Ric was quick to say now that it appeared that Shatterstar was getting his memories sorted out. "Honest to god, Gav, despite what you might think-" 

"Gav?" 

"I-yeah, I shortened your name. Was... Is that okay?" 

"I've never heard my personal designation spoken in such a manner." He appeared to seriously consider it and then spared his companion a curious look. "It is an expression borne of familiarity, yes?" 

Ric swallowed and managed to answer in a level voice. "It sure is." 

"Then it's fine," the warrior concluded and they continued their course down the beach. 

When it neared sunset, they found an abandoned shack partially hidden amidst the palm trees and decided to camp there for the night. To Ric, it looked like it had been built by some kids who had perhaps watched a few too many seasons of 'Survivor' and tried to build their own variant of a jungle shelter with the barest of essentials (and patience). Still, it was better than a cramped tent. Star thoroughly investigated the area and soon returned with a beer bottle in one hand and a flaccid length of plastic in the other. He was looking at it in confusion. 

"Uhm, that's a condom, dude. A used one," Ric managed to say, struggling to keep a straight face. 

"...Ky? _Fekt!_ " The alien cursed, flinging it away and then began scrubbing his hand on his thigh in disgust as Julio lost the battle and brayed uncontrollable laughter. 

"Lubricated, flavored, glow-in-the-dark ... I forgot," Star muttered to himself. He removed his helmet and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "I have forgotten so much." 

"Yeah, but at least it's coming back," Ric said in relief. 

"Too slow to suit me." The alien nodded towards the ocean. "Is that water safe to swim in?" 

"Sure. Just don't drink it this time, okay?" 

Star got another flash of memory; of entering a body of water similar to this one and drinking deeply before realizing just how salty it was and how his body reacted to it. "It made me vomit." 

"I'll say. You remember that, huh?" 

Julio had been there, rubbing his back as he was doubled over, retching. There had been genuine concern in the Latino's face at his discomfort. It wasn't the first time that look had been on his dark face, either. "Yes," was all that he chose to say of it and stripped down until he was nude, carefully folding the pieces of his uniform and utterly oblivious of his companion's longing, miserable glances. He strode down to the water and began swimming. 

Julio watched him with troubled eyes and then busied himself with unpacking some of their gear and then went to collect firewood while there was still enough light to search. He was doing just about everything he could to distract his mind that Shatterstar was swimming naked less than thirty feet away from him. The guy who, last night, had said in the manner of his world how much he loved him and who, in the early hours of this morning, had died before Ric could tell him he felt exactly the same way. It was all whirling around in his head. He was in such a state of distress, laying down firewood in a growing pile, that he didn’t realize Star had returned to the shelter until he spoke up, making Ric jump in surprise. 

"You don't want to swim, too? The water is wonderful," he said, his wet hair hanging down his sculpted chest and reaching his washboard stomach. 

Ric's eyes followed the course of that jungle of long hair, drawing down further until he blushed and looked away, clearing his throat. "No. Go put some pants on, dude." 

"I've not yet finished swimming." He paused, appeared to consider something and then said, "To my recollection, my nudity has never bothered you before." There was something in his voice that made the smaller teen look up at him curiously. Almost hopefully. 

His eyes met an enigmatic smile. "Join me in the water, Julio," Star said, walking away and returning to the shoreline. He paused there for a moment, looking back, and then went back to swimming. 

Nervously licking his lips, Ric thought it over and then stripped off his clothes. He considered leaving his underwear on (not that he had ever worn them before when the two were alone in the water together) and then took them off, too. “Fuck it,” he muttered. Nothing could be worse than what he had gone through this morning. If his body embarrassed him, he was prepared to endure it. Spiral had gifted him with a second chance and he wasn’t going to squander the opportunity by acting coy. Head held high, he marched towards the ocean and dove straight in. 

The water was calm and warm and absolutely perfect. Highlighted by a cloudless ruby-red sky, Julio splashed about and swam and dove. He exploded from the water with an exalted cry and swept his hair back from his face, looking around. Shatterstar was standing nearby in water up to his waist. It looked like he had been watching Julio for awhile. 

Ric flashed him a broad, excited grin. “You were right, as usual. This feels great!” 

“Bai,” Star agreed, and then turned and looked up at the sky. The first of stars were beginning to appear. His silhouette looked so perfect that Ric wandered over. He couldn’t stop himself from needing to be close to him any more than he could stop the erection he was getting as a result of that proximity. The water mercifully hid it from view. 

There was a streak of light that flashed over their heads and Shatterstar said in an odd, wondering voice. “A shooting star, yes? Make a wish.” 

“It already came true,” Ric murmured, staring at him. 

Star dropped his head and looked back with those otherworldy silver eyes, the left one glowing slightly as it always had in such low light. Through trembling lips, Julio managed to choke out: “ _Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo_.” 

With those words finally freed from his heart and soul, he waited for the reaction.

 

* * *

Lo siento. Estoy teniendo un muy, _muy_ mal dia: "I'm sorry. I'm having a really, _really_ bad day." 

No te preocupes: "It's okay." 

Yo hablo español. Bueno, que me aspen: "I speak Spanish. Well, I'll be damned." 

Me mucho alegro de verte de nuevo: "I am so glad to see you again." 

Gracias: "Thank you."

 


	7. Old Ghosts

_“La veeerga!”_ Ric grumbled under his breath, clasping his arms tight around his knees. _“Me cago en la leche! Estupida hijo de tu puta madre._ _Pinche idiota. ¡Chale!”_

He had been reciting self-depreciating curses to himself for the last hour. Basically ever since he bared his soul to Shatterstar down in the water and received only uncomfortable silence in response. Star had looked at him in complete shock for a few seconds then backed away, quickly exiting the water. He pulled on his pants, grabbed his swords, and disappeared into the jungle.

All of this Ric observed from where he was standing in the water, his erection beginning to wilt as the situation began to dawn on him. He had spoken too soon. Much too soon. Star was only now starting to get his earth memories into order and Ric had just told him something exceedingly intimate. It had been the equivalent of dropping a marriage proposal on someone who hadn’t even agreed to a first date.

He slapped his hands to his face and screamed, _“¡JODER!”_ as loud as he could. Had he thought nothing could be worse than what he had gone through this morning? Had he thought that _really?_ Having his heart’s desire unrequited was just about ten times worse.

Ric wandered back to their shelter, pulled on his shorts and then retreated into the corner of the dilapidated structure to brood. Sulking was one of the things he was good at. It was right up there with screwing shit up and he had screwed shit up _big time_. It didn’t help his mood to know that this was probably how low Star had felt yesterday when he had spoken those exact words and Ric had dropped the ball by talking about supper instead. Small wonder he had gone and offed himself. Ric felt close to it himself, although his grave was now at least ten klicks north. 

He shook his head. _“Chorra babaso! ¿Coño, qué he hecho? Ya me-“_  

 _“Como no te calles, te voy a dar una hostia,”_ snapped a voice from outside of the shelter. 

That caught Ric’s attention. He emerged from the structure and dimly made out Star digging in the sand. “Get down here and help me. I was expecting the fire to have been made by now. What the fekt’s wrong with you?” 

Rictor wasn’t expecting so soon a return (deep down, he really hadn't been expecting one at all) or liked the surly nature Star was exhibiting. It spurred the Mexican to action and he climbed out and began hunting around for rocks to place around the fire pit his partner was scooping out of the sand. “I’m sorry. Just serving penance.” 

In the darkness, it was impossible to make out the expression on the Mojoworlder’s face. “Penance for what?” 

“For ... for what I said before. For, y’know, embarrassing you.” 

Star muttered, “I’ll admit, it shocked me to hear you say that. I didn’t remember that I’d said it to you first until just a short while ago.” 

“I really meant it, Star. I-“ 

“Let’s get a fire going first and then we will talk, yes? It is difficult to engage in conversation if I cannot see your face.” 

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” 

“As usual,” he heard the alien say under his breath and almost felt Spiral’s breath on his ear as she whispered: _You will not find him as he was_. He shivered and broke out in gooseflesh and was grateful his friend couldn’t see it. 

Once the rocks were arranged in a circle and the manageable pieces of wood laid down, Star unsheathed both of his new swords and struck the tips over a pile of shredded coconut bark, generating a shower of sparks. After several more clangs of alien metal, the tinder caught fire and Ric bent over to blow on the small flames until they caught on the dry wood and began to spread. That was when he realized Star had left to go hunting and had managed to kill a small wild pig. Ric began building a serviceable cooking spit as his friend skillfully butchered the animal. In a short while, they were sitting beside each other watching the animal cook with hungry eyes. Both their stomachs were growling but neither were quite willing to poke fun about it. The atmosphere between them was still too tense. 

Ric broke the uncomfortable silence first. “I meant what I said. Y’know, about that whole uemeur thing.” 

“So did I.” 

“Sure, but that was _before_. How do you feel about us _now_?” 

“As best friends or lovers?” 

“Both.” 

Star frowned. “I know my memories are still lacking order, but have we not been both practically from the start? Has that changed?” 

“You tell me. You’re the one who was away for two years. Spi-“ 

 _“D’ha!”_  

“ _She_ tampered with your mind. She admitted to doing it and, I have to admit, you are a little different.” 

 _“Za’s vid!_ For fekt’s sake, what do you expect? I died and just came back seven hours ago, _vehjka-x'i!_ ” 

“There! Right there!” Julio pointed at him. “You never used to curse at me before.” 

“No? Because of the slave mindset that embraced you as my master more than as my friend?” The redhead asked directly, watching as Ric dropped his eyes. “No more of that bullsit-“ 

“Shit. Bull _shit_.” 

“Are you trying to piss on me?” 

“Piss you off. That’s how you say it-“ 

 _“Rictor!”_  

“No, honestly I’m not. I-“ He scrubbed at his shaggy, damp mop of hair. “Look, I’ll just speak my piece and get it all out in the open and we’ll hash it out from there: I love you, okay? I want us to keep on going like the last twenty-four hours never happened. I know that’s unrealistic with all the shit that’s gone down. I know it’s a hell of a lot to drop into your lap so soon, but it’s how I feel.” He swallowed and said in a low voice, “I love you, Gav.” 

Star studied him for a long while. “ _Te amo,_ ” he finally said. 

“Yeah, that’s Spanish for-“ 

“I know what it’s Spanish for. _Te amo, Julio. Estoy enamorado de tí._ _Me mucho haces feliz.”_   

All of the blood drained from Ric’s face and his jaw dropped. He had been expecting an argument, perhaps even a break-up. Not this unexpected proclamation of emotion. He managed to get out a faltering: _“Te-te quiero con todo mi c-corazón-_ ” before his voice broke and he simply couldn’t say any more. 

Star pulled him close and held on to him, running his hands through his hair and up and down his back. He was staring at the fire but hardly seeing the flames. His thoughts were in another time and place. “I dreamt of you while I was in the Time Dancer’s lair. It should not have been possible, but I thought of you while I was in stasis, healing. I might have gone mad from the sensory deprivation otherwise. I don’t bear inactivity well.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “It's probably why I’m so attracted to a chatterbum like you.” 

“Chatter _box_ ,” Ric said with a laugh, wiping his eyes. 

“I like my word better.” 

“Asshole.” 

“That, too.” 

“I’m not so sure I like this new Chatty Cathy revision of yours, you know that?” the Latino said, raising his head and staring directly at the large warrior. This close together, their mouths were barely an inch apart. “I’m used to getting in the last word all the time.” 

“ _Ai bez_ , Julio. In battle, there always has to be a loser,” Star said with a smirk and kissed him. Feeling those soft lips envelope his, Julio resolved that _okay, maybe, just this once_ , he’d let the alien get away with saying the last word. He just wouldn’t let it become a habit. 

He clutched desperately at the other teen’s broad back, their bare torsos rubbing together. There weren’t a whole lot of clothes between them; just Julio’s ratty shorts and the lower half of Star’s uniform but they suddenly felt confining, almost painful to keep on. Ric stood up on shaky legs and pulled his shorts down with a compulsive yank. He grabbed the waistband of Star’s pants and tugged him into the shelter where the sand wouldn’t become a nuisance. They collapsed together on the sleeping bags Julio laid down earlier. 

Star gripped Ric’s straining erection and the Latino jerked in surprise at how different his lover's hand felt. He had become accustomed to the rough calluses and was unprepared for how soft the skin was now. “Oooh god, that feels so good,” he moaned into Star’s open mouth, humping into that exquisite grip. They kissed deeply, their tongues fencing together, saliva mingling and becoming an aphrodisiac that was affecting them both. 

With impatient fingers, Ric pulled down the tight spandex pants of Star’s outfit and freed that glorious, engorged cock. He took it into his mouth without hesitation, wrapping his fingers along the bottom of the shaft because the damn thing was too big for him to deep throat, but he came close several times, eliciting strangled curses in Cadre from the big alien when he almost managed the feat. “You like that, huh?” 

 _“Bai,”_ Star grunted. Those soft, new fingers of his were playing with Julio’s cock, fondling his balls, running up the crack of his ass with feather-light touches until they found the puckered entrance of his anus. One deftly slipped in and Ric shuddered as he felt it deliberately stroke his prostate. He pushed against that welcome intruder as he tried to deep-throat Star’s cock again, grasping those swollen balls and wrenching another hissing, excited curse as he squeezed. The alien bucked his hips, beginning to fuck his mouth and Ric kept his tongue pressed against that big vein on the underside of that straining dick, letting the smooth helmet hit his upper palette with each upward thrust. He made swallowing motions that intensified the sensations and Star slammed his head back against the floor and came with a shout, shooting jets of hot come into Ric’s open mouth. 

The Hispanic swallowed some of it, the rest he spit into his hand and smeared against Star’s asshole as a lubricant. It was necessary because Ric’s inquiring fingers found him impossibly tight; the result of two years of stasis and out of practice for this sort of thing. He gradually widened the entrance. “I wanna fuck you, man, but ...“ 

“Do it.” Star rolled over onto his knees and flipped his hair over one shoulder. It was like the movement of a magnificent stallion. Julio couldn’t stop himself now even if he wanted to (and he was close to shooting off either way) and forced his cock into that tight sphincter without preamble, sinking it deep. The alien growled low at the forceful insertion but thrust his hips back in encouragement. Ric fucked him with rapid hunches, not wasting time on subtlety and knowing that the Mojoworlder actually liked the sex to be a little rough. Gestures of lingering foreplay or delicacy were lost on his warrior mindset. He was conditioned to endure violence and absorb pain and it was a natural byproduct of his design that carried down to other actions not exclusively restricted to a battlefield. Intercourse was one of them. 

Ric hammered into that wonderful, familiar ass. His belly slapped against those perfectly defined buttocks and he bent forward and licked at one shoulder-blade, tasting the saltiness and alien musk of that perfect skin and reveling in it. He reached around and gripped Star cock, still fiercely hard, and then reached down lower and squeezed his balls, wrenching another Cadre-coarse assault of cursing. 

Star reared up on his knees, leaning his head over one shoulder, and the two exchanged wet, licking kisses before Ric lied back and let Star set the pace. With smooth, muscular precision, he ground up and down on that length embedded inside of him. Keeping the pace steady and still so goddamned tight that Ric finally gripped his hips with tense fingers, bucking up into him in a frenzy and saying from between clenched teeth: “I’m coming. _Aguas!_ I can’t hold back any more. I’m coming! _Christ!_ ” 

He shot off inside that length of muscled tissue, his entire body jerking with each spurt of his come. He was moaning incoherently when Star pulled free. He barely registered feeling his legs being picked up until he felt the head of Star cock nudging its way into him. His eyes flew open like shutters. “Oh, fuck!” 

“That’s the plan,” Star said, using the spend from their earlier session to ease his passage. Julio was used to his size and the alien slipped in easily and began fucking him with slow, leisurely thrusts. He captured Julio’s open, panting mouth and flicked his tongue against the other’s, letting them dance and lick and taste as he moved slowly in and out. “I love your body, Julio. I love everything about you.” 

“I love you, too,” Ric moaned, encircling his arms around the alien’s perspiring shoulders and kissing him urgently. This was so rare an occasion where he didn't have to beg the big warrior to fuck him that he submitted to it without question. He began hunching his hips up in an impatient action of lust. “Fuck me, Gav. I want to feel you shoot inside of me. I love it when you do that. Do it!” 

Star obliged, speeding up the pace. He had already shot off once so it took awhile before he was close to climaxing again. Just in time for Julio’s own dick to rise again in excitement on this wanton assault on his rear. He feverishly beat off with his fist while the alien was driving for the finish. Julio felt his orgasm overtake him and shouted out in excitement. One hand slapped down against the floor of the rickety shelter and created a shockwave that took out the side wall. The pair hardly even noticed.  Ric's hot come splattered against them, becoming rubbed into the overheated flesh as their stomachs slapped together. Star released a choked shout and came deep into his ass. It seemed as if he might take forever before he was finally spent. Reluctantly, he pulled his half-hard meat from the swollen hole and rubbed it with his fingers, feeling the slick come leaking out. He kissed Julio again. “That was incredible. You felt wonderful.” 

“Oh ... oh god,” Julio murmured against those full lips. He was basking in the warm aftermath of climax. Loving the feel of Star fingers as they dallied and played with him down there. “I’m so glad you're back. You have no idea.” 

“I might have a clue,” Star muttered, nuzzling the side of his neck. “There was a desperation to your actions tonight. As if you were the one gone for two years instead of me.” 

“It might as well have been that way. I thought I’d lost you for good. I thought ...” _My life was going to be over_ , he almost said out loud, thinking about how close he had been to following his friend to death. If Spiral hadn’t come back when she did, it would have been Shatterstar who would have been saddled with a corpse to bury. 

Star didn’t appear to notice the lapse. He sniffed the air and suddenly sat up. “The pig is starting to burn.” 

“To hell with it. I’ll just eat you instead.” 

“Tempting, but not particularly nutritious. I don’t want to waste this kill. We can engage in relations again later.” 

Ric was making no effort to get up. Jerking off made him sleepy. Sex with Shatterstar absolutely exhausted him. “Uhm. Looking forward to another round of _that_.” 

“Me, too. Say what you will about condoms, but nothing beats riding bareback.” With an odd bark of laughter the alien slipped outside to tend to the meat. 

Ric had been lounging back with a contented smile on his face but the second he heard his friend say that, he reacted as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water. He scrambled to his feet and looked out of the doorway to the shelter. Star was turning the pig around on the spit to evenly cook both sides and glanced up at him. 

There was something to that light-blue regard that was eerily familiar and all Julio could think to say out loud was: “... Clifford?” 

“You know I don’t like that name,” Shatterstar grumbled and dropped his voice a lower register to add, “ _Pedro_.” 

Hearing that nickname instantly dissolved all of Ric’s doubts. “Holy fuck. She said she found the remains of Ben Russell’s personality, but didn’t say how she dealt with it. That silly bitch merged the two of you,” he said in a wondering, accusatory voice. 

“I have an extensive blank spot in my memories where Russell is concerned. It begins when you returned from Mexico and there is a gap that lasts until the two of us are in an abandoned house together. You attacked me with your power-” 

 _“¡Oye!"_ Rictor shouted in rising anger. "Listen up. I attacked _Russell_ , amigo. He took control of you; obviously you don’t remember any of that anymore. Russell was some rogue douche bag that the Gamesmaster planted in your head to drive you crazy. He was a teleporter and took us both to Boston to get revenge on his dad. I had to stop him, but it meant hurting you in the process. The Gamesmaster got all pissy that things didn’t go his way and took Russell back. That's when you snapped out of it. Unfortunately, you were stuck with all of his memories and feelings and whatever other shit he left in your head. Spi-“ 

 _“D’ha!”_  

“ _She_ said she did what she could to remove it. What she did was make his personality remnants become a part of yours. I _thought_ you were acting different. I thought-“ 

“What? That your pet dog came back to contentedly lie at your feet?” 

Julio’s face reddened just the slightest bit. “It wasn’t like that, Gav. C'mon, you have to remember enough to know that I never bossed you around. I never used you.” 

“I thought you did,” Star said, looking away. “Before knocking you out and taking on Martinez’s squad, I thought that was exactly what you were doing.” 

“But you know differently now, right?” 

Star didn’t answer. 

 _“Star!”_  

The warrior looked back up at him. “I died, Rictor. I endured agony I have not felt since I came to this world and I am not entirely speaking of just what Martinez and his men did to me. I fought on your behalf for three months straight and when I needed to hear it most, you could not say five simple alien words that would have made me feel complete. I am angry.” 

“I’m sorry,” was all Julio could say. 

“I know you are, but it doesn’t help me. I’m still angry.” He turned and headed for the shore. Far beyond the range of the firelight he disappeared in the darkness, but Ric could hear the splashing of water as he bathed. 

The Mexican realized he wasn’t too fresh either and joined him. As his eyes adjusted to the starlight, he made out Star’s form nearby and told him, “Russell was all about grudges and holding onto resentments. Don’t be like him. You’re better than that.” 

It was a low, muted whisper, but Ric caught it. Barely. “Am I really?” 

“You’re starting to worry me, buddy.” 

Star made his way towards him until he was towering over the smaller man, his left eye noticeably glowing. “This has been a very long day. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I don’t want to speak any more of this until tomorrow. Is that acceptable?” 

Ric got the distinct impression his response really didn’t matter, but at least Star was making the effort let him voice his opinion even if it was just window dressing. “Sure. I think a meal and a good night’s sleep would do us both some good.” 

Star favored him with a curt nod and returned to the camp without another word. They ate the small pig mostly in silence. Julio tried to engage his partner in conversation, but Star had shut down and lapsed into a brooding, sullen silence that was similar to how he had been when he first came to earth. It was also the kind of thing that Ben Russell would do and Julio was a nervous wreck wondering who was currently holding the reins. 

“I’m going to turn in,” Ric said at last, knowing that if he stayed out here for much longer he was going to try and pick a fight and they were both too exhausted for more of that drama. “You coming?” 

“Nai,” was all Star said, staring at the fire. With an audible sigh, the Mexican went inside the rickety shelter and laid down on one of the sleeping bags. He tried to will his eyes to stay open but it was a losing battle. He fell asleep within minutes. 

When the alien heard the change in his friend’s breathing, he went over to his clothes and began to get dressed. His thoughts were heavy and still disorganized and he was far angrier than he had admitted earlier. In his present mindset, he was convinced that Julio had just told him what he wanted to hear. He did not trust this sudden turnabout in behavior. He had died, Julio had been faced with the prospect of confronting his relatives alone and, with his resurrection, Ric was prepared to tell (and do) anything to make sure their alliance held. Star loved the other mutant but Ben Russell didn’t, and in terms of independent action Russell was far more experienced in matters where trust was an issue. His way of dealing with it was simple; Cut and run. As the weaker persona of the two, Star simply conceded to the logic. 

Fully dressed, he pulled on his belt and did a quick pat-down to make sure nothing was out of place. One of the pouches contained something hard and angular and when he checked the contents he remembered that it was the broken electronic device he had salvaged from their camp where he'd died. His memory now filled in the blanks; it was Julio’s cell phone. He faltered and looked at the broken pieces in confusion. He sniffed at it and detected Ric’s scent as well as another; a smell comprised of pseudo-flesh and metal. 

He almost dropped it in surprise. After briefly mulling it over, he rummaged through their gear and found another disposable cell phone that had been given to him (and one that he refused to use, except in extreme emergencies). Sitting back down in front of the fire, he pulled some tools from his belt and tried to salvage the memory chip and do a data exchange. It didn’t take long before text came into view. His eyes skimmed over the line: _By the time you read this letter, I’ll be dead, too._

Curious, he began to read.

 

* * *

At some point in the middle of the night, Ric’s eyes snapped open and he looked up at the cobweb-strewn ceiling of the shelter and thought; _He’s gone. Star packed up and left me behind_. There was no logic to the idea. It was just a feeling; almost a deep-rooted certainty that Shatterstar was far away from here. That he had left to search for a way out of Mexico and force Ric to deal with the messy business of his relatives on his own. The sudden realization was like a punch to the nuts: He couldn't do _any_ of this without Star by his side. 

Sitting up, Rictor looked outside to where the fire had burned down to orange embers. He swallowed before hesitantly calling out, “Star...?” 

“... what?” Muttered a muffled voice from right behind him. 

Ric jerked with a cry of surprise and fumbled for the penlight he kept in the pocket of his shorts. He shined it around and found his friend cocooned in his sleeping bag. The only thing he could see was a length of red hair trailing out of it. “You-you’re still here.” 

“Of course I am, silly _vehjka_. Where else would I be?” 

“I thought you left. I-I thought-“ 

“You think too much, Julio. That is your problem. Go back to sleep.” 

Ric shut off the light and settled back down. When he stared up at the ceiling again, he was smiling. “I love you,” he whispered. 

The alien stirred and unwrapped the sleeping bag around him far enough to pull Ric close, and then enveloped both of their bodies with it. “I love you, too,” Star said, kissing him on the cheek and settling easily back into sleep. Even though it was much too hot for such close quarters, Julio didn’t pull away from his partner’s body. A part of him thought he might still be dreaming and he didn’t want it to end. Perspiring and almost panting from the heat, he still managed to fall asleep, unwilling to move an inch. 

By dawn, they were packed up and on the move again. Star’s mood had improved and he was in far better spirits than he had been the night before. While he slept, his healing factor had managed to sort through the chaos in his head. Right now, he had virtually all of his memories sorted out in proper order except for that disturbing blank spot that involved Russell’s possession. He coaxed Rictor to tell him about it. It was a disturbingly short tale, but it offered some much-needed insight into the personality of the teenager Spiral had seen fit to merge with his own. “Creating such an amalgam was not necessarily a bad thing,” he concluded. 

Ric scowled at him. “No? Ben was a mean, manipulative prick.” 

“He was also extremely self-reliant, resourceful, and street-wise. Those are qualities I have lacked ever since I gained my freedom. It has helped fill a void." 

“Well, it’s made you more talkative. Now you’re an optimist, too? Huh. I guess I can’t fault the results,” Ric mused. “Now that you seem to have your head all sorted out, I was thinking that maybe you were right before all that shit went down. Head into Guadalajara and take the fight there. What do you think?” 

A look of unease crossed Star’s face. “That is no longer a viable option.” 

“Why not? You took out all of Martinez’s men. My uncles think you’re dead and that I’ve probably given up putting an end to their gunrunning. The element of surprise is perfect.” 

“With your power we would certainly give them something to think about, I agree. I am just not sure how effective I could be in combat at this point in time.” 

Ric pulled him to a stop. “If you’re worried about using your shockwave power; don’t be. I know what it does to you. I _saw_ what it can do. All I care about are those nifty swords strapped to your back.” 

“And there lies the problem,” Star murmured. 

“I don’t get you.” 

“I’m not used to these weapons _she_ has seen fit to provide me. They possess the same Mojoverse metallurgy and are tuned to my DNA as my broadswords, but they are lighter and require more finesse to wield. My hands and eyes are another issue.” 

Now Ric was starting to look alarmed. “Why? Are they defective or something?” 

“Just the opposite. My depth perception used to be flawed because of Mojo's tampering. It was something I grew accustomed to. Now, my vision is perfect and my prior habit of over-correcting is compromising my aim. Also, these new hands are very weak. They ache because the muscles are not accustomed to movement. That small pig last night was not my first target or even my second. The hunt was ... embarrassing.” 

Rictor understood and nodded. “You need to do some retraining.” 

“For a short while. Yes.” 

“Any ideas?” 

“I still don’t want to go to Muir Island,” Star said with a trace of his old stubbornness. “I have noticed that when the mutants of X get together, they seem to break off into other cadre formations to do battle and they rarely fare well. I don't want to risk losing you.” 

“Same here,” Ric admitted. It was the truth; he didn’t want to be separated from Star, but there was another motive to his reasoning. He didn’t bring it up that the two of them would have to keep their distance from each other because he didn’t want it publicly known that he was gay. He wasn’t ready to come out. Not anywhere close. Shatterstar had no problem with his bisexuality (and Ric envied him for his blasé attitude about it all) but the Latino still didn’t want his friends to know they were lovers. A part of it was shame; he had been raised to believe that homosexuality was the ultimate sin. Another part was greed; he wanted to keep Star all to himself for the time being. In the end, greed won out. “I don’t really want to call Cable anyway. He wasn’t too keen on our plan in the first place and contacting him is like admitting defeat or something. You know?” 

“I think I understand, yes, but what other option do we have?” 

“We need to get out of my uncles’ territory. This travelling by the beach is slow going. I say the next resort we come to, we should try and steal a boat. Make a run back to the 'States.” 

Star didn’t look comforted by that idea either. “We worked so hard to make it this far only to fall back and have to start all over again. I’m sorry-“ He found a finger thrust into his face. 

“Don’t you dare!” Ric snapped at him. “If there’s any apologizing to do, I’m the one who has to do it. I’m the one who fucked up by not reporting to Cable that my phone got jacked. I can never undo all the damage that caused. _Never!_ You leave the self-pity to me. You got that?” 

“Bossy,” Star mumbled, but one corner of his lips twitched in amusement. 

“Actually, I just thought of a better idea,” Julio muttered, dropping his backpack to the sand and rifling through the side pockets until he pulled out a battered newspaper clipping. He read the faded print carefully. 

Normally, Star was the patient, studious one of the pair, but eventually even he found his partner’s long bout of silent deliberation unnerving. “What are you planning to do, Ric?” he pressed. 

The Mexican favored him with a pained expression. “You're not gonna like it.”

 

* * *

 

Translations _(if they're not entirely correct; well, you get the gist...):_  

Ric: La veeerga! (expression of disbelief) Me cago en la leche! (I’ve had shitty luck) Estupida hijo de tu puta madre (Stupid son of bitch) Pinche idiota (Fucking idiot) ¡Chale! (Damn it) ¡Joder! (Fuck) 

Ric: Chorra babaso. (Stupid retard) ¿Coño, qué he hecho? (Damn, what have I done?) 

Star: Como no te calles, te voy a dar una hostia.  (If you don't shut up, I'm going to smack you.)

Star: Te amo. Estoy enamorado de tí. Me haces mucho feliz. (I love you. I’m in love with you. You make me very happy.) 

Ric: Te quiero con todo mi corazón. (I love you with all my heart.)

 


	8. Unlikely Allies

Chief Agent Miguel Lopez wasn’t quite sure what to make of the two young men currently sitting in different interview rooms at the ATF Resident Office in Morelia. He alternated between both windows and toggled the intercom switch as he went from room to room, silently marveling at what he was witnessing. It was like some strange, perverted gift dropped directly into his lap by some rogue god with a really twisted sense of humor. 

Take Room Two for instance. Seated on one side of the single table was Special Agent Felicia Brevas, a colleague Miguel trusted with his life and career (in Mexico, the two were often intertwined). Seated opposite of her was a large redhead who looked like he had been force-fed steroids because there was no damned way his intimidating muscular build could be all-natural. He was startlingly handsome, clearly not from either Americas judging by his accent, and so frankly honest with Felicia that Miguel was wondering if he was slightly crazy. Between him and Felicia were dozens of pictures taken of dead men and, one by one, the stranger known only as “Gav” was systematically working his way through them. Miguel listened in as he pointed to a picture of a man who’d had half his face cleaved off and calmly said, _“Yes, I killed him. Along with-“_ and then he started rearranging the pictures of corpses into groups (the correct groups, Miguel noted, because he had instructed Felicia to lay the photos down in a haphazard pattern). Then, he would name the location where he had killed them (also correct). 

Miguel turned off the speaker and crossed the hall to look at the window of Room One. Lounging back in his chair was Gav’s “boss”: Eighteen year-old Julio Esteban Richter; the prodigal son of Louis Alejandro Garabello Richter. Louis had been the original crime lord of the weapon trafficking cartel that was now being run across Mexico by his three surviving brothers and an eclectic assortment of nephews and cousins. For some reason, Julio had decided to strike back against his relatives and, in the last three months, had accomplished what Miguel Lopez hadn’t been able to manage in his two years with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives: Effectively cripple the Richter Cartel. 

Damned if the punk wasn’t bragging about it. _“-Naw, we hit Soto la Marina first because I knew it was a smalltime op and that my cousin Ramon couldn’t keep his mouth shut once Gav got to him. He gave us the supply chain with hardly any fuss and we’ve worked our way up the ladder ever since,”_ Ric said. He was talking to Antonio Rossini, Miguel’s partner. Lord knows there weren’t many the ATF agent could trust in this day and age, which was why he had the support staff cleared out and the video recorders turned off to the examination rooms. He wanted to keep all of this under wraps for as long as possible. 

All of this apparently started six days ago when Miguel had an interview posted in El Reforma, the largest newspaper in Mexico City, about his somewhat notorious efforts of breaking up a gun-smuggling ring in Toluca. The fact that he had made reference to Bruno Santiago was what had probably caught Julio’s interest in the article. Bruno was one of the men who ran with his uncle Gonzalo. Miguel completed the interview with a printing of his personal office number asking if anyone had any information on Mr. Santiago to call him. He made it a point to encourage _any_ anonymous tips. Despite the reassurance, nobody called until early this morning and by then he had largely given up on it. He expected it to be his boss or one of his contacts from the other offices. 

He picked up the receiver while typing on the computer. "Hello?" He said into the receiver, barely paying it any attention as he stared at the monitor. 

 _“You the guy wanting info about that asshole Bruno?”_ asked a cocky young voice. 

 _That_ got his immediate attention. “I’m Special Agent Miguel Lopez and you had better not be wasting my time with a crank call. I’ll trace it and bust your ass.” 

 _“Oh, bullshit. It takes you feds forty-seven seconds to do a trace and I’m using a disposable phone anyway. Listen up. I know Bruno. Hell, I know his boss Gonzalo Richter. I guess you could say I’m an expert on the whole family tree.”_ There was a bark of bitter laughter that followed. 

“Oh really? And what makes you say that?” 

 _“Because my friend and I have been the ones trimming the branches lately. You know about all those hits in Huejutla de Reyes, Tula de Allende, Zitácuaro and Limon? That was us, man.”_  

Miguel sat up ram-rod straight in his chair. To say that the informer had captured all of his attention at this point was an understatement. “You don’t say?” He threw a pen at the window to catch the attention of his partner Antonio and began gesturing urgently to the phone. Operating like a rocket was tied to his ass, Tony sprinted into the next room to order up a trace where the intelligence analysts and electronic specialists were located. 

 _“Yeah, now you're taking this seriously. I can tell. That’s good ‘cause I’ve got information I want to share. My friend and I want to come in, but there are terms.”_  

“What kind of terms?” 

 _“My forty-seven seconds are almost up. I’ll call you back with the details.”_  

“Wait! Wait a sec-" The caller hung up. _"Fuck!_ ” The hang-dog expression on Tony’s face when he showed up a few minutes later said it all. “Not enough time on the trace?” 

“No. Whoever’s calling sounds like he knows our tech.” 

“That’s not all he knows,” Miguel said, pulling out a file folder and flipping it open. “He spoke about Zitácuaro and Limon and a few other spots we've investigated that isn’t known outside of this office. That man we took in for questioning from Limon said that it was just one guy who tortured Geraldo Lesaras and killed his men. And he did it with swords. Says that he also used some sort of power to blow up the truck containing the guns.” 

“Mutant?” 

“What else?” 

“Fuck. That complicates things,” Tony muttered. “Why contact us now?” 

“It might have to do with that mess in Manzanillo,” Miguel said, thumbing through the folder. “There were four bodies found in the warehouse that we identified as associates of Gabriel Richter. Police saw a local make off with another body but weren’t able to catch him. He used some sort of power to make the highway split apart.” 

This time Tony only whispered the word. “Mutant.” 

Miguel grunted. “Police found the truck this morning. One of the cops said it looked like a pig had been slaughtered from the amount of blood they found in the flatbed. They found two empty grave sites but no bodies. The guy on the phone didn’t speak about any of that, but he said he and his pal want to come in. If they suffered losses it makes sense. The Richter Cartel is swarming like a nest of pissed-off hornets right now. They probably need protection.” 

“Do they have any idea how complicated they made our own investigation? Not to mention how many agents they jeopardized with their vigilante bullshit? I say _screw them!_ ” 

Miguel just let his partner vent, regarding him with weary patience and waited for the inevitable lull to finally cut in with: “Whoever they are, they crippled an organization that’s been a serious thorn in our asses ever since we opened this office. My contact with the DEA says the drug cartels have been downgrading their activities because they’re scrambling to find another source for weapons. That office has made three serious busts in the last month because of it. Our own arrests are up and you’re saying you want to feed those guys to the wolves? We should put them on the fucking payroll!” 

Tony sobered in the face of logic. “Just because the DEA has their golden boy doesn’t mean we need our own,” he grumbled. 

“We need all the help we can get and you know it.” 

“Even if they’re vigilantes?” 

“Keeps our cells empty and the tax payers happy. Remember what happened to Sophia?” 

Tony’s face darkened and he didn’t say a word. 

“I’m cool with fighting fire with fire. Keeps our hands clean. It’s a bonus if they’re mutants. They’re used to operating under the radar better than our own trained operatives. Whatever those guys want, I’m prepared to give it to them.” 

Tony could see the resolution in his partner’s face and knew it was pointless to argue. He also knew that Miguel was right. Their young mystery informant called back a few minutes later. Deals were struck, a pick-up at an isolated place and time was arranged. Miguel went to retrieve them himself. To say he was surprised to see a pair of teenagers waiting for him was the understatement of the century. 

“Are you shitting me?” he said, leaning over the passenger seat and eyeballing Rictor and Shatterstar through the side window. “You two punks are the ones responsible for all of the shit of the last three months? _You two?!”_  

“Yep,” Ric said, moving towards the car. “Just us two.” He looked back to where Star remained standing. He was wearing sunglasses, a baseball cap, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and, for some reason that Miguel couldn’t understand, he was clutching his duffle bag with white-knuckled fists. “Dude, don’t worry. It’s okay.” 

Star spoke back in Cadre; his words clipped and to the point. _“[Do not patronize me. None of this is ‘okay’.]”_  

 _“[Do you trust me?]”_  

Reluctantly, the Mojoworlder betrayed a solemn nod, but hugged the duffle closer to his chest. Inside of it were both of his swords and his uniform along with the rest of his meagre belongings. 

Ric opened the back door of Miguel’s sedan. _“[Get in. We can handle ourselves against one human.]”_  

 _“[There may be more than him.]”_ While they had waited in Tecomán, Star had insisted on two walks around the block looking for any hint of ambush. He would have started prowling the rooftops if Ric hadn’t reminded him that they were supposed to stay out of sight as much as possible. Even in civilian clothes, the Mojoworlder stuck out like a sore thumb, not even able to blend in with the large assortment of tourists that were around even this remote location. 

 _“[We have to take the chance.]”_ Rictor said. His voice and manner appeared calm, but deep inside he was nervous as hell. Star had practically had an aneurysm when he called up the ATF office and the two had been arguing back and forth over the situation right up until the agent pulled up alongside them. Neither side had yet reached a satisfying conclusion to the matter. _“[Star, please. Don’t make me look like an idiot here.]_ ” 

At length, with a barely submerged grumble, Star slid into the backseat while his companion settled into the passenger seat beside a befuddled Miguel. “Sorry about that,” Ric said. “He doesn’t trust you.” 

 _“[Nor should you!]”_ Star barked. 

Wondering just what he had gotten himself into, Miguel pulled away from the curb. His head was swimming with questions and, more to himself, he said, “We’ll hash this all out when we get back to the office.” 

“That’s cool,” voiced the young man beside him, settling back into the padded seat. He looked tired and disheveled and in desperate need of a shower. The taller redhead was looking anxiously out of the side and back windows as if they were about to be attacked or being followed. He was a bundle of nerves and, of the two of them, he worried Miguel the most. 

As an attempt at conversation, he had to ask: “How the hell did the two of you get wrapped up into this mess?” 

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I’m Julio Richter,” Ric said, extending a hand over to him. “I plan on destroying my family’s gun trafficking business. Gav back there is my best friend." 

Miguel looked in the rearview mirror and saw “Gav” glowering back at him. He had taken his sunglasses off and the agent could see the dark brown starburst pattern around his left eye. He wasn’t sure if it was a tattoo or an eerily distinct birthmark. 

Miguel awkwardly shook Julio's hand and fell into stunned silence for most of the trip back to the field office. 

When the interviews were over and their information checked out, Miguel herded them both into his office and closed the door. As an added measure, he dropped all the blinds. He regarded the pair across the expanse of his desk for a long considering moment before he said bluntly, “What do you want?” 

“How much do you know about the situation in Manzanillo?” Rictor said instead. 

The two young men had been honest with him and he decided his best tactic would be to return the favor. “We traced the four dead men back to Gabriel Richter. Judging by the chainsaws, we figured that they were in the process of torturing someone when there was an explosion. Someone pulled another body out of the ruins and drove away. The truck was found later as well as two empty gravesites.” He looked at Julio gravely. “That was you at the scene, wasn't it?" 

Thinking of that terrible day, Ric only offered a mute nod. 

"What happened to the body you took?" 

"That was me," Star said. 

The agent shook his head. "There were body parts found inside the warehouse we couldn't trace to Gabriel's four men. Judging by the amount of blood found in the truck bed and on the beach it was clear that someone had died." 

"I _did_ , vehjka," the Mojoworlder snapped. There was a hard edge to his voice. 

"It's alright," Ric murmured to him. "Calm down. He doesn't understand." 

Miguel took a deep breath. "Why don't you try and explain it to me?" 

"It's... Wow, it's a really complicated mess," Ric said, adding an irritated shake of the head. “Long story short, Manzanillo messed him up pretty bad. Needs a gym where he can get some training time in.” 

To Miguel, the redhead looked as fresh as a daisy. “...Do you need a doctor?” 

“Whitecoats can do nothing for me,” Star said. “I’ve regrown my hands and eyes and need time to adjust. I require weights in excess of at least one thousand pounds. I don’t suppose you have a weapons-master I can spar with?” 

The federal agent blinked. 

“Uh, yeah, I think that’s a no,” Ric whispered over to his friend. 

“Oh. Well, whatever you can supply would be appreciated,” the alien said civilly. 

“Decent quarters with a shower would be great, too. And our clothes-” 

“Hey, just hold on,” Miguel cut in, waving his hands. “Don’t think for one minute that you’re being rewarded for what you’ve done. You’re both in a lot of trouble!” 

“For what?” Ric said innocently. “I’m just trying to put my crime family on the skids. Aside from providing names, I haven’t actually done anything wrong.” 

“That’s true,” Star said. “I’m the one who has done all the killing and maiming.” 

Miguel looked directly at him. “You’re admitting to murder and assault? Do you realize that you'll probably go to jail?” 

“Unlikely. Your laws do not apply to me and there is no extradition treaty between my world and earth.” 

 _“What?!”_  

“It means he’s an illegal alien in all the ways that matter,” Ric said with a barely submerged grin. 

“An alien...” Miguel slumped backwards into his chair in defeat. He looked skeptically at Julio. “And you?” 

“Mutant. I generate seismic blasts. Create earthquakes if I have to.” 

“Hnh. That explains why your uncles have been having such a hard time capturing you two.” 

“They want to take Julio alive, but know it would be extremely difficult,” Star explained, remembering snatches of conversation between Gabriel and Jake as he was struggling to breath on the cold concrete before they decided to finish him off for good. “They figured that killing me would send the message to him to abandon this mission. They don’t know I survived.” 

“I want to keep it that way for as long as possible. As far as they know, I got the hint and took off,” Ric said. 

“So what do you expect me and my office to do? Give you free room and board until you’ve recovered and then send you back out on your merry little way?” Miguel asked. 

“Kinda like that, yeah.” 

“No. It doesn’t work that way, kid,” the agent said bluntly, his face hard. “You’ve done one hell of a job cutting down on the gun dealing, I’ll give you two that much. But the instant you called my office you brought that vigilante crap to an end. You’re done.” 

Rictor’s amiable demeanor immediately changed. His eyes narrowed and he straightened his spine, his hands clasped together between his legs. Reading his partner’s body language, Star also sat up in his seat. His swords were still in the duffle that sat on the floor beside him. He made no move to unzip the bag and go for them but Miguel swore he could pick up a faint hum emanating from his body. “You’re in the middle of a federal office surrounded by agents. Are you actually going to fight your way out or are we going to continue to talk like rational adults?” 

“You tell me,” Ric said warily. “You make it sound like you’re going to lock us up.” 

“I will not be caged,” Star said. The distrust and anger was back on his face. Miguel could have sworn that the tattooed left eye looked like it was glowing. And that hum was getting louder, making his fillings ache. 

“Calm down. The both of you,” the agent said in a calm voice. “Nobody’s getting locked up. You want a safe place to stay? Fine. You need to do some rehabilitation? Also fine. That’s the easy part, so relax. Okay?” 

The two teens exchanged a wordless glance and dropped their defensive stances. That enigmatic hum faded and disappeared. “You have to understand,” Ric said. “We took one helluva gamble coming in like this. Mutants and government agencies don’t get along very well.” 

“I know. I watch the American news. _You_ have to understand where I’m coming from, too. I’ve got two rogue mutants who have slaughtered over a hundred criminals sitting right in front of me. The only saving grace is that you’re in Mexico and not in the States. There, they’d arrest you just to see themselves on the six o’clock news. Things are a little different down here. I actually could use the two of you.” 

Star blinked in obvious surprise. He spoke a few muttered words in that strange language Miguel had heard earlier at the pick-up site and saw the smaller teen shake his head. Not for the first time, Miguel was wondering how such two drastically different youths had gotten wrapped up in this shady business together. 

“Are you offering us a-a... job?” Ric spoke up at last. 

Miguel offered a half-nod, side-stepping a deliberate answer. “Obviously, being federal agents, my people and I have to keep our hands clean. Things have to be done by the book. That doesn’t mean that we can’t hire some ‘associates’ to hash away at some of the nasty bits that we can’t officially be a part of. I know you two are young, but I get the distinct impression that you’re both used to this sort of operation.” 

“You could say that,” Ric admitted while Star just nodded. 

“This business with the Richter Cartel blurs into several other territories and jurisdictions. We work closely with the Drug Enforcement Agency. They have an operative in the field who could probably use your... unique skills.” 

“We have our hands full with my relatives,” Julio said, clearly not liking the direction this conversation was going. “Now you want to pit us against drug lords, too?” 

“You know it’s all tied in together down here, right? You didn’t just rattle the cages of a gun trafficking business. You made the drug cartels break their long established covers to try and find other weapon dealers. Because of that, the DEA are bragging about some of the biggest busts they’ve made in years. And it’s all because you two cut off the main supply chain.” 

“Let me guess... now you want to share some of that glory, too, right?” Ric broke out into a smarmy grin. 

Miguel had to hand it to him, the kid wasn’t stupid. “Yeah, maybe I think my office is underappreciated for what we do around here. The DEA have an ace in the hole who helps them out. Off the books. I’m prepared to broker the same deal with you two.”

At this point, Star gave his head an irritated shake and looked at Ric in frustration, gesturing and speaking rapidly in Cadre. “[ _I do not understand all of this fekting human slang._ Aces. Holes. Books. _Have we found refuge or are we still in danger?!_ ]” 

“[ _This is a really complicated situation. I’ll explain it to you in detail later. Right now, you can relax. This man is all right_ ,]” Ric told him. The sheer testimony that Star trusted his judgment was evident when Miguel saw the alien visibly calm down. “My friend doesn’t really understand what’s going on here,” he said to the agent. “We’ve had a rough couple of days. Can you give us some time to talk it over? We’re not going to run away if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

The fact that two mutants ( _well, one mutant and a ... whatever_ , Miguel corrected in his mind) had turned themselves in to a government agency for protection in the first place spoke volumes. Miguel mused that the teen was understating things quite a bit and probably knew that they were at his mercy. How smooth this partnership was going to go depended on what he said next. He went with: “I’m not worried. I’ll put you two into a hotel we reserve for witness protection. I hope you don’t mind sharing quarters. I can’t spare the expense of separate rooms. It would attract too much attention.” 

Straight-faced, Julio managed to say, “We’ll muddle through with that arrangement.” 

“I’ll have to take you at your word that you’ll stay in there. I’ll don’t have any free agents available to keep an eye on the place. I’ll need a day or so to make arrangements to accommodate your friend’s rather unique rehabilitation needs. Unless it’s me, and only me, you’re to stay put in that room. Understand?” 

“That sounds particularly agreeable,” Star said, lightening up a little. He was suddenly looking far happier than when he had first gotten into the back seat of Miguel’s car. Beside him, Julio wished that the alien had picked up some acting lessons in Mojoworld and didn’t wear all of his emotions on his sleeve all of the time. 

“It’s okay,” Ric said in a far more neutral tone. He got up and extended his hand over to the agent first. “Thank you.” 

“I’m glad you called, Mr. Richter-“ 

“Just call me Ric. For obvious reasons, I _really_ hate that last name.” 

“Agreed, Ric,” Miguel said, shaking his hand. He held his hand out to Star who, after a second’s hesitation, followed suit. “You too, Gav. Thank you both for coming forward. You won’t regret it.” 

Not accustomed to acts of human civility, Star could only offer a mute nod. 

Less than an hour later, the pair were standing in a hotel room that had two single beds and a kitchenette and were holding several bags of Mexican take-out along with their gear. Ric was looking around the change of venue like a man in a dream. “Man, this sure beats that Survivor hovel we slept in last night.” 

“ _Codlista_ ,” Star said in a low voice, eyeing the walls and ceiling. 

“Think the place is bugged?” 

The alien nodded. “ _Bai_.” 

Ric caught the hint. “[ _Makes sense. This is a government-bought room. We’ll stick to Cadre_.]” 

“[ _You said you would explain what you and that man were talking about. Will you tell me now? I’m confused._ ]” Star looked at him plaintively. 

Over their meal, Ric explained what was going on and how closely drugs and weapons were intertwined in Mexico. Shatterstar was used to the United States and all of its laws and rules and could scarcely absorb all of the differences in regulations south of the border. Miguel Lopez represented an American ideal in a country that chiefly opposed it, often in far brutal fashion than their North American counterparts. He was hindered by that government legislation. “[ _That’s why he’s asking for our help_ ,]” Ric explained. “[ _I think he’s gone as far as he can without breaking the law. We don’t follow any laws so we’re convenient scapegoats. If something goes wrong, he and his department can deny any association with us. I think it’s called ‘plausible deniability_ ’.]” 

“[ _Intriguing,_ ]” Star said in an awestruck voice. “[ _Just like something on an earth vid_.]” 

“[ _Uhm, yeah, only it’s our asses on the line here. We just pissed off one bunch of assholes and now Lopez wants to use us to piss off some more. That’s not what I originally came down here to do_.]” 

“[ _We can leave. So far we are indebted to this man for nothing more than a room and a meal. We can place some money on the table and climb out of the window and go_ ...]” 

Ric caught the lapse. “[ _Where? I saw you trip just climbing the stairs. Your depth perception is more messed up than you’re letting on. I’m betting your hands aren’t in any better shape. You need time to adjust to what happened to you. Lopez is offering help. I can’t, in good faith, just use him and then ditch when you’re back to fighting form._ ]” 

“[ _Agreed. It would not be honorable._ ]” Star sighed. “[ _It is because of me we are in this dilemma. I’m-_ ]” 

“D’ha!” Ric pointed a finger in his face. “[ _What did I tell you about apologies? This is my fault. I’m the one who broke Code 22. You’re the one who suffered for it_.]” 

“[ _I’m all right_.]” 

“[ _Are you?_ ]” The Mexican’s dark brown eyes searched his friend’s face. “[ _Martinez and his men tortured you, Gav. They killed you. Can you really tell me that you’ve shaken all that off? Really?_ ]” 

“[ _I am used to pain and torment. During that period it was like_ -]” Star looked around the room and the expression on his face became guarded and unhappy. “[- _It felt like I was back in the Arena again, only there were no cheers or applause or music. Just Martinez’s voice asking over and over where you were. I never told him, Julio.]_ ” 

“[ _No, I know you didn’t,_ ]” Ric whispered, knowing full well that the alien should have given his location away feeling as betrayed as he did at the time. All through that suffering and agony, Star remained loyal to the end. Could he, Rictor, make the same boast? He thought of how fast he had crumpled under the torture of The Right and knew the answer. He gripped the alien’s free hand on the table and squeezed it. “[ _You’re the best friend a guy could ever have. I don’t deserve you._ ]” 

“[ _You became my friend when the others just dismissed me as some savage warrior. You showed me intimacy. You saved me from Russell and the Gamesmaster. There could be no other but you_.]” 

“[ _I-_ ] There’re no Cadre words for love or appreciation,” Ric muttered under his breath in Spanish. “It’s pretty limited when it comes to expressing emotion.” 

“It is a language reserved for battle and giving orders,” Star agreed in an equally hushed voice. “All I have ever heard is-“ 

_“Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo.”_

_“Bai. Dhiv kiba uemeur sa hai’vo.”_  

“It’s close enough,” Ric said and reached across the table to pull Star in for a deep kiss. The alien was accepting of the gesture, drawing Julio’s tongue into his mouth and sucking on it briefly before reluctantly drawing back. “[ _This place is not safe. We should not-_ ]” 

“You _died_ , Gav.” Ric’s face was solemn and his eyes were welling up with tears before he managed to blink them back. “I saw what they did to you. I can’t get that image out of my head. You died right in my lap. I’m not gonna throw away this second chance because of some stupid fear of what other people might think. For the moment, we’re safe here. I don’t give a fuck if it upsets some government snoop. I love you, goddamn it.” 

“Goddamn it, I love you, too,” the alien shot back with a roguish grin that was more Russell than Star. Despite Ric’s surprise, it roused a surprised bark of laughter out of him to hear it. He got out of his chair and boldly straddled Star’s lap, deliberately grinding his crotch into the other’s man’s prominent bulge. There was a lustful grumble of words that were lost when Ric settled his lips against the large warrior’s mouth and kissed him, wrapping his fingers in that thick red hair. 

Star dropped his mouth to lick Julio’s neck, tasting the harsh salt of sweat and ocean and suddenly rose to his feet, effortlessly carrying the other mutant into the bathroom and heading for the shower. Ric was barely aware of what was going on, wrapping his legs around the large teen’s hips and locking his ankles at the back of his thighs and he grasped at the material of Star’s shirt to stroke those smooth muscles of his back. It wasn’t until Star stepped into the stall that he released a shocked scream.

“What’s wrong?” Star asked innocently, smiling up into the spray from the showerhead as he slid the door closed. 

Ric dropped down and threw himself at the temperature controls. “Oh, you bastard! That’s fuh-fucking _freezing!_ ” 

Getting leisurely out of his clothes, Star said, “It’s clean water. Who cares what the temperature is? Besides, you stink.” He grabbed a bottle of complimentary shampoo and squirted a dollop on top of Ric’s head and then began to wash his own hair. During a mission he didn’t give much concern over such necessities, but in moments of downtime he liked to be clean. Things like showers without time limits and privacy curtains were considered a luxury to him. The temperature of the water was a minimal concern. 

Rictor successfully fiddled with the knobs and turned the spray to an almost scalding assault, relishing the feel as he got out of his filthy clothes. They showered together whenever they managed to score a bathroom, which hadn’t been often in their rough three-month trek from Soto la Marina to Morelia. Right now, the pair just got caught up in the simple joy of bathing until Star dipped his head under the spray to rinse his long hair and felt hands encircle him from behind and rub his stomach. He placed his hands over them and guided them down lower. “I think you’re clean enough to touch me now,” he said, turning around to flash a smirk as he brushed a wet tangle of hair away from his face. 

“Oh, you do, huh?” Ric did more than touch him; he grasped that heavy length and held on tight. With a free hand, he ran a thumb along the taller man’s chin. “You gonna try growing that ball tickler again? What’d it take you? Two months to work up an inch of stubble?” he snickered. 

Star rubbed his smooth cheeks, considering. “I’m two years older. Who knows? It might grow in faster now.” 

Ric’s smile faded at the reminder. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to bring it up.” 

“What happened can’t be ignored,” he said, looking at his hands. They seemed smaller to him somehow and he realized that the nails needed to be trimmed. There was a flash of memory of blackened stumps and then a vague sensation of itching pain as they regrew before he dropped them to Julio’s sides, stroking the wet skin along the Mexican’s rib cage. “I feel steadier. Calmer. I don’t know if it is from blending with Russell or some side-effect of the healing, but it is a good thing, Julio. Perhaps even a necessary thing. I feel whole for the first time since ...” He gave his head a shake and that jungle of red hair went everywhere. “ _Forever_.” 

Ric pressed their bodies together and bunted his forehead against Star’s shoulder. “ _She_ said you’d be different. I feared the worst because, well, that’s what I _do_. I’ll admit, you scared the shit out of me when you didn’t remember anything at first. Even after we did it and ate the pig, I thought that something was still off. I was sure you were gonna bolt. But by this morning-“ 

“I read your letter.” 

Clearing the wet bangs out of his eyes, Julio looked up at his partner in confusion. “What?” 

“Your suicide letter to Cable. I read it.” 

Blinking in disbelief, Ric shook his head. “No. No, you _couldn’t_ have. Spir-“

 _“D’ha!”_  

“ _She_ broke my phone.” 

“I found the pieces and repaired it last night. I _was_ going to leave. Your instincts were not wrong. I thought you were just saying what I wanted to hear because I came back. I did not know that you felt the same way as I did. _And for so long!_ Why... Julio, why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

Hiding his face in his mop of wet hair, Julio turned off the water and got out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and held his face into it and spoke the muffled words: “For the same reason I don’t kiss you or hold your hand or hug you in public. Because I’m ashamed of what I am. Because I’m still scared of what people think. Because ...” He looked up at Star, his face flushed and anguished. “Good things never seem to happen to me and you’re a good thing, Star. The best thing. I didn’t want to say I love you and take the chance of not hearing it back.” 

Star dropped his eyes to the floor and simply said, “Ironic.” 

“I know. _I’m sorry!”_ Ric shouted in misery. He knew Shatterstar was speaking of the night before he died. When he had bravely bared his soul and had not heard those earnest words of his own language repeated when he'd needed to hear it the most. “There’s nothing else I can say that can ever take back what happened. I felt-“ 

“I know how you felt,” the alien said, looking back at him. Ric was stunned to see tears in his light blue eyes. “I read the words. I saw the two graves. You were going to take your life, silly vehjka.” He released a choked cough of laughter and the tears ran down his cheeks before he scrubbed them away. “No one ever placed such worth on my life before you came along. Nobody!” 

“Now you know how I felt when I got that call from Theresa telling me that you tried to off yourself,” Ric said, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “God. What a pair we make, huh?” 

“Two sides of the same dollar.” 

Ric betrayed a small chuckle. “Coin, amigo. Two sides of the same coin.” 

“The analogy still holds true.” 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m not gonna argue,” he said, throwing the towel at his friend’s head. “What’d you do with my phone after you read that?” 

“I destroyed all traces of it. Such a letter will never be necessary again.” 

“That goes both ways, Gaveedra. You get me?” 

Star paused in the act of toweling his hair dry. He regarded his companion solemnly. “I understand what you’re saying, yes.” 

“Good deal. Now help me push those stupid single beds together so that we can get it on. I’m horny as hell.” 

“Bossy,” Star said, throwing the towel over his shoulder where it landed perfectly on the towel rack. He permitted himself a small smile as he followed after his friend into the bedroom. “I like that.” 

And Ric grinned back. “I know.”

* * *

 


	9. Operation Chessboard

It had still been early in the afternoon when Miguel Lopez dropped the two enigmatic mutants off at their hotel room. He tended to some errands on the pair’s behalf and then returned to his office to make some discrete inquiries. There was an extensive file on the Richter clan, but Julio was little more than a footnote in that family tree. The youth had witnessed his father’s murder at the age of thirteen and, shortly after that traumatic event, had run away. From that point on he seemingly disappeared. Like all government operatives, Miguel knew about some of the more gregarious groups of mutants who often clashed with officials. He knew about the X-Men and X-Factor and used his top secret clearance to do a background check on Julio. The redhead, Gav, was a complete unknown and the ATF agent didn’t like that. With his online clearance, Miguel began digging. 

He was barely aware of the passage of time, so engrossed in his work, that he actually jumped when there was a blunt knock on his door. His partner, Antonio Rossini, opened it and stuck his head in. “You got a minute?” 

Miguel glanced at his watch. “What’re you still doing here? You should have been gone hours ago.” 

“Yeah, well, I figured I’d listen in on your two new ‘employees’ to make sure they didn’t rabbit.” 

The older man frowned. “You didn’t have to do that, Tony.” The department was basically on a shoestring budget and he hadn’t assigned anyone to listen in on the wiretap in the hotel room because he didn’t have any additional personnel to delegate to the task. He figured if the two young men were going to run there really wasn’t anything he could do to prevent it. 

“Yeah, I did,” Tony said, settling down in the seat across from the desk. “I didn’t trust them and just wanted to make sure they weren’t out to scam us.” 

Miguel got the distinct impression that his partner’s fears about that had been alleviated. “I take it they’re trustworthy?” 

“Seem to be.” The agent shifted his eyes elsewhere. “They’re also gay for each other.” 

Miguel had been wondering what the draw was between such two polar opposites and now had his answer. “Huh,” was all he had to say of it. “I’ve been trying to do a background check on them but I’m hitting some blanks. Can you give me anything to work with?” 

Tony handed over a printed transcript of what he had heard in the hotel room before shutting off the feed. “I highlighted some names they passed back and forth. Most of the time they spoke a language our templates don’t recognize. I don’t think it’s a code, it’s too elaborate for that.” 

Miguel leafed through it. On the first page was only one recognizable sentence spoken by Julio: _‘Think the place is bugged?_ ’ and after that were pages filled with the dots and dashes indicative of failed translation attempts by the computer. It wasn’t until page four that the pair began speaking Spanish and alternated from that point on between that and English. The agent recognized one highlighted name right off the bat. “Cable?” 

“Yep.” 

Cable was one particular mutant who was red-flagged on all government databases. Wolverine was another. “This will help narrow things down. Thanks, Tony.” 

“Uhm. Don’t stay too late. I know you’re a terrible workaholic, but you still need your downtime.” 

“Thanks, ‘mom’. Once I track down a few loose ends, I’ll close up shop and go drop off some of the things I picked up for our new guests.” 

“Uh yeah, you might want to wait until morning before doing that,” Tony said as he got to his feet. 

Miguel looked up from his monitor. “Oh? Why’s that?” 

“For the same reason I had to stop listening to them. They’re fucking.” 

Miguel cocked an eyebrow and a cracked a sardonic smile. “Just as well Felicia didn’t volunteer for the duty. She’d be asking me to plant a video camera next.” 

Tony just shrugged and frowned. It was clear that he was more than a little uncomfortable with the subject matter. “I’m going home. Gonna take a long shower and then make love to my wife,” he grumbled and left. 

Miguel heard the front door of the office close and lock and went back to reading the transcript more thoroughly. He was far more touched by the pair’s exchange than Antonio had been and it explained that enigmatic discovery of the two gravesites near where the abandoned truck had been found. He didn’t know the whole story, but from what he read it sounded like the pair had some kind of suicide pact that had gone horribly wrong. No doubt it was the main reason why they had turned themselves in. It wasn’t just ‘Gaveedra’ who needed help. They both needed time to heal. 

With that in mind, and armed with some specific names, Miguel returned to his online sleuthing. The name “Cable” unlocked a lot of files and opened plenty of others. It wasn’t long before he knew exactly who both young vigilantes actually were and mused that, where mutants were concerned, it was certainly a small world. He picked up the phone and called his contact with the DEA.

 

* * *

Early the next morning, Julio was awake and watching television when there was a rap of knuckles on the hotel door. He got up and looked through the peep hole. “Relax, it’s Lopez,” he told Star who had stopped doing sit-ups to grab his swords. The alien grunted an affirmative and went back to exercising as Ric undid the chain and opened the door. “Hey.” 

“Good morning, boys,” Miguel said, letting himself inside. He was carrying several bags and dropped them on the table. 

Ric was pleased to see coffee along with muffins and donuts and immediately sat down to eat. “Breakfast is here.” 

“Later,” Star said dismissively. 

“C’mon, man. Don’t be rude.” 

The alien muttered something under his breath and got reluctantly to his feet, massaging his hands as he came over to the table. He offered Miguel a curt nod. “Thank you for your generosity. It is very much appreciated.” He spared a glance at Rictor. “[ _Satisfied?_ ]” 

Ric’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “[ _Sit down. Stop being an ass_.]” With another grumble, Star plopped down in the chair like a desultory child and glowered moodily at the food on the table. Miguel had watched the scene in amusement but was beginning to catch a glimmer of understanding into the redhead’s behavior when he saw him grasp a donut and wince at the action of bending his fingers. The young man was clearly in pain. “Are you all right?” 

“He’s been exercising all morning. He’s out of shape,” Ric managed to get out around a mouthful of blueberry muffin. 

“Two years of stasis will do that to you,” Star murmured, having to use both hands just to hold the donut and eat it. They were visibly swollen and shaking. 

“I don’t understand,” the agent admitted, sitting across from them. 

Julio cast his partner a glance. “[ _Can I tell him?_ ]” He received a one-shouldered shrug in response. Ric told Miguel, “Gav died from injuries caused by Martinez and his men. That was two days ago. But he’s from a different world and another dimension. On top of that, he’s also from the future. That’s three kinds of fucked up. There’s this crazy chick who can cross all three barriers-“ 

“My people call her the Time Dancer because we dare not say her true name,” Star offered. “She is an agent of my former master, but sometimes she slips her leash and does unexpected things. She claimed my body and placed it in stasis to heal, but it took two years for my hands and eyes to grow back.” 

“That was barely six hours, our time,” Ric added for the stunned agent’s benefit. 

“The transition has left me weak. I have a healing factor to help combat that vulnerability, but I need time to adjust.” 

“That’s why I called you,” Julio finished. “We could’ve called for- well, an EVAC I guess, but that would have been like admitting defeat.” 

“You mean call for Cable?” Miguel asked casually, sipping the cup of coffee he brought with him. 

Ric’s face barely twitched while Star looked at the agent in amazement. Miguel figured the redhead would never be very good at Texas Hold’em. “You know who we are,” the Mexican said. It wasn’t a question. 

“Rictor and Shatterstar. Affiliated with X-Force and on the Most Wanted list of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Bureau of Mutant Affairs, and Zero Tolerance.” 

“X-Force disbanded. After that nasty business with the Sentinel Primes we scattered. Star and I decided to come here,” Ric admitted, adding a lame shrug. “If that changes the deal, we understand, but don’t expect any apologies from us. We were just protecting our asses the only way we knew how.” 

“They’re huge American agencies completely oblivious to a low-funded, two-bit operation like a Mexican ATF office,” Miguel said with a vocal shrug. “You’re safe here and the deal still stands. Hell, if you could keep those high-tech gringos at bay this should be a walk in the park.” 

“Fekting slang,” Star muttered. He grasped a bottle of apple juice with one trembling hand and struggled to twist off the top. His face flushed with embarrassment when Ric gently pried it out of his grip to unscrew it for him. He muttered an alien version of thanks as he took it back and drank. 

That did not go unnoticed by Miguel either. “I should have the arrangement of a gym worked out and ready for you tomorrow. I was wondering if you needed anything else?” 

Ric had finished eating and was pawing through the other bags the agent had brought; some stuff for the kitchenette and bathroom, a few changes of clothes. “Looks like you’ve got everything we could ask for. Thanks-” 

“Not yet. I need crowbars,” Star spoke up. “Or tire irons, or some other pieces of sturdy metal I can physically manipulate with my hands.” 

“For Christ’s sake, you can’t even open a bottle of juice!” Ric snapped. “Just keep squeezing those balled up socks I gave you.” 

“They’re not even clean!” 

“I’ll try to have everything ready for you tomorrow,” Miguel said, getting out of his chair to take his leave before the pair’s bickering made him start laughing. They sounded like a married couple. “Just try to relax and take things easy until then.” 

“Yeah, right. In case you haven’t noticed, Star doesn’t do ‘relaxed’ or ‘easy’,” Ric remarked to the agent as he followed him to the door. 

“[ _I do when we have sex_.]” The alien shot back, returning to the bedroom to continue his training. “[ _Don’t expect_ that _to happen today_.]” 

This time, Julio faltered and blushed. Grasping the context, if not the meaning, Miguel managed to get to his car before he started chuckling. 

Early the following afternoon, Miguel picked up the pair and drove them both to the headquarters office in Morelia which had a staff gym, complete with pool. For the purposes of Star’s retraining, Miguel had managed to reserve its use for the rest of the day. After that, the schedule revolved around demand, usually only being free late in the evening. The alien accepted the offering with grudging appreciation, staring at equipment reserved for non-powered humans and discouraged that it would actually be an effort for him to use the full weights even though he used to be able to lift five tons before Manzanillo. _Before Martinez._ As ever, thinking about the ordeal caused him to grow silent and moody. 

Julio stood with Miguel as they watched the alien walk among the various equipment, checking it out carefully before moving on to the next. “Your friend doesn’t look too happy,” the agent remarked. 

“Don’t take it personally,” Ric muttered. “It’s a warrior thing. He doesn’t like feeling vulnerable and this incident really rattled him. Far more than he’s letting on.” 

Last evening, Tony had volunteered to listen in for a few hours on the hotel room’s wiretap (wincing even as he made the offer, as if hearing the antics of two young gay men might somehow taint him). Miguel did it instead. During his session, there hadn’t been any boasts of love or acts of sex. The two mutants had spent most of the time arguing. Sometimes it had been in that rough, heavily consanted language identified as Cadre. When they lapsed into Spanish or English, it revealed complications the ATF agent could never have imagined. By accident or design, Shatterstar had suffered extensive psychic manipulation at some point during his tour with X-Force. After his two-year healing (Miguel was still trying to figure out _that_ time paradox), he emerged from it crippled with some other persona named ‘Russell’. Rictor was accusing him of behaving more like that aberrant personality than usual and that was when their conversation took a rather ugly turn. 

 _“You should be glad that I’m nothing like Russell,”_ Star had said in that smooth, heavily accented baritone of his. _“From what I’m able to process, he didn’t like you very much. He thought you were short, immature, insecure, and had a big mouth. Be fortunate I’m not swayed by his poor opinion of you.”_

_“You expect me to be grateful? You’ve been acting weird ever since you came back.”_

_“Small wonder! You’ve been nagging at me nonstop. My body aches, Rictor. My hands hurt. My eyes burn. My mind is still trying to sort out my memories. You are not being patient to let me cope with what I went through. I want you to do the-the backing off.”_

There was a long moment of silence before Ric said in a guarded voice, _“I guess that’s better than you telling me to do 'the fuck off’.”_  

 _“I am very close to that, too_.” 

 _“Well, tough shit. I’m_ not _backing off. I’m worried about you, Star. You’re not sleeping. You’re overdoing the exercise. You’re-“_

 _“I need to be back in peak condition before they find us!”_ Star suddenly shouted. There was a high-pitched edge of panic to his voice. _“I am in no shape to deal with Martinez again! I would not be able to stop him from taking you to your uncles!”_

_“I... Holy shit. Is-is that what’s got you so worked up? Worrying about what might happen to me?”_

_“I_ know _what would happen to you. I endured it: Having my eyes pierced and cut out. Stabbed forty-two times. Cut apart by chainsaws. I can not- I will not- let that happen to you, but ... as I am-“_ His voice broke and he had to clear his throat to get out the rest; “ _I am useless and I do not like it.”_  

 _“You’re not useless,”_ Ric said in a voice so low Miguel had to turn up the volume to hear it. _“You could_ never _be useless. We’ll get you back in fighting form in no time. This is just a temporary set-back, is all.”_

_“But-!”_

_“No, Star. No ‘buts’. You gotta trust me on this one, okay?”_  

There was a pause of stubborn silence and Julio pressed the issue. _“Do you trust me?”_

 _“With my life.”_ Came the immediate response followed by the weaker addition of, _“Such as it is.”_  

There was a frustrated sigh in response to that. “ _And Russell thinks I’m the insecure one? What a prick. Do you want me to go get some ice for your hands?”_  

 _“Later. I’m going to do some more push-ups.”_ There was a pause and then the alien attempted in a faltering tone, _“I don’t suppose ... Would it be too much to ask-?”_  

Julio let out a sigh. _“I’ll sit on your back for the added weight. But the second I feel you falter, that’s it. Deal?”_  

The response was a disgruntled mutter. _“Bai. Deal.”_  

Miguel stopped listening when the alien hit one hundred push-ups and didn’t appear to be close to slowing down. By that time, the two were watching Jaws and their conversation became shark-related and more light-hearted. Still, it brought home just how important it was that the two youths remain in a protected environment. 

When Shatterstar was finished with his evaluation, Miguel beckoned him over and said, “This building is full of agents so you’re completely safe here. I have some documents and information that Julio needs to look at so we’re going to go back to my office. Is that all right?” 

Star’s eyes widened in alarm and he instinctively looked to Rictor for reassurance. “[ _Separation in unsafe territory? I do not like that._ ]” 

“[ _I’m not defenceless, remember? I’ll be okay. So will you_ ,]” Julio said and added in English, “Try not to over-do it. Promise me.” 

“I promise. If the strain grows too much, I’ll go swimming instead,” Star said. He passed Miguel a deliberate glare. “If anything happens to Rictor I will hold you accountable, _vehjka_.” 

Unruffled, Miguel passed him an easy smile. “He’ll be fine. We’ll see you in a few hours.” 

Julio gave Star’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, passing him an earnest glance full of emotion that he couldn’t say out loud. The alien matched that stare and passed his partner a vague nod and turned away from them to begin his training. Blushing for no good reason, Ric joined the agent out of the gym, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as if his face might betray something. It wasn’t until they were halfway to Miguel’s office that he said with difficulty, “Star and I ... Look, I don’t know if our hotel room is bugged or not, but I guess you can tell that we’re more than just, y’know, friends.” 

“Whatever relationship the two of you have is absolutely none of my business,” Miguel said. There was a span of strained silence and he realized that wasn’t what Julio had wanted to hear and added for his benefit; “But for what it’s worth, I don’t have any kind of a problem with it. I think it’s good you both have each other.” And he sincerely meant that. 

“Thanks,” Ric said, relaxing a little. “Really, man. That’s nice of you to say, but my family can’t catch wind of it. Understand? They’re devote Catholics on top of being hypocrites. It’s okay to deal guns and do drugs, but ... Have you ever heard of Salvatore Desoto?” 

The agent glanced sidelong at the teen in obvious surprise. “He was involved with your father before working for Gabriel Richter.” 

“My uncle Gabe ordered him killed because he found out Sal was gay.” 

Miguel flashed him a shocked look. “You know this for a fact?” 

“Yeah, Jake Martinez told me. Hell, he was probably the prick who did most of it. They tortured and mutilated poor Sal and threw his body somewhere out into the desert.” Ric swallowed nervously. “What happened to Star was terrible, but if my family found out about us it would be ten times worse. I can’t let that happen.” 

Miguel mulled that over for a few minutes. “We found Desoto’s remains four months ago. It took a DNA test to confirm the identity. Determining how he died, or who killed him, was virtually impossible. That’s another body we can pin to your uncle. Thank you, Julio.” 

“Sal’s the main reason I wanted to put a stop to my family’s gun trafficking business. I was prepared to go alone, but Star and I ... By then, we were ...” He finished the sentence with a shrug. “I thought we were being so clever to just let Star deal with my uncles’ shipments. I thought for sure that they were clueless about my involvement. Turns out they knew it was me all along. I really fucked up and Star paid for it with his life. That’s the reason I called you. We can’t do this alone anymore. I realize that now.” 

“You couldn’t call on your former associates for help? I thought all you X-groups stuck together.” 

Rictor passed the agent a disbelieving sidelong glance. He supposed to the outside world it was a popular misconception that all mutants were just one big happy family willing to jump in and lend a helping hand to each other at the drop of a hat. The reality was actually the opposite. “Not where X-Force was concerned. We operated on the fringe and did our own thing. It didn’t make us popular with the others. I've lost touch with my other teammates, but I wouldn’t contact them anyway. This is personal. Especially now.” 

Miguel betrayed a shake of the head. “When the body count started rising, we were positive it was some rival cartel muscling into Richter turf. It was just Shatterstar responsible for all that damage?” 

“Yeah. He was a famous entertainer on his world in a primetime show called the Slaughter Games. He doesn’t talk about it much but I get the impression that he’s killed thousands just for ratings.” At the agent’s disbelieving look, Ric said quickly, “It wasn’t his choice. He was a slave before managing to escape to earth. Cable saw his potential as a soldier and tricked him into joining X-Force.” 

“And that’s how you two met.” 

“Uh huh,” Ric said with a half smile, looking out of the passenger window. He became lost in thought, thinking about Star and how his training was probably going until they pulled into Miguel’s parking spot. “So you said something about paperwork and stuff you wanted to go over?” he asked as they got out of the car. 

“That business in Manzanillo created some buzz on some back channels we’re listening into. I want to know if you recognize the voices.” 

“What d’you mean buzz?” 

“You’ll find out.” 

They reached his office and Rictor flashed a cocky salute to Antonio Rossini who flushed and bent his head lower to his keyboard to do his data entry. He offered a lame wave that was either recognition or dismissal. Felicia Brevas looked at the youth with a barely contained smile dancing in her chocolate brown eyes. Right then and there, Julio knew what Shatterstar had suspected all along: Their room _was_ bugged. It wasn’t just Miguel who knew about their relationship. From the looks of things, his entire fucking department knew about it. 

“Tonto del culo,” he muttered under his breath, wiping his face with his hand. His chances of keeping his homosexuality from his family were steadily fading by the day. He might as well dye his hair pink, get his right ear pierced, wear a rainbow-colored T-shirt and just get it over with. 

Miguel noticed the look of utter remorse on the youth’s face. “You okay?” 

“Man, I hope your people can keep their mouths shut,” Julio muttered, following the agent into his office with glowing cheeks. 

“Tony and Felicia are the only ones who know about you and Star. They’re the only ones I can trust. Six months ago there was a serious leak in our department and one of our undercover agents paid for it with her life,” the tall agent said, settling behind his desk. 

“What happened to her?” 

For a moment, Miguel debated not answering then he remembered that where death and destruction were concerned, Julio had pretty much already seen and endured it all. “She had infiltrated a rival cartel and her cover was blown. They raped her to death before depositing her body right into our own backyard dumpster. Her name was Sophia Hernandez.” 

Ric winced. “Which cartel did that?” 

“They call themselves the Death Dealers.” 

Julio surprised him by nodding. “We crossed paths with them in our first month down in San Felipe. They always wear black bandanas with a skeleton jaw bone printed on them. Easy assholes to spot.” 

“How did you deal with them?” 

“Eh, they got in our way so Star just sliced and diced ‘em. He didn’t leave any witnesses so our cover would stay hidden. We didn’t figure they were that big a deal to be honest.” 

“They’re becoming a big deal now that the Richter family is faltering. They deal in drugs _and_ guns which is why we’re teaming up with the DEA at the moment. The fact that you’ve already crossed paths with them is useful,” Miguel said honestly. He entered his code into his computer and repositioned the speakers towards where Ric was sitting. “Like I said earlier what happened in Manzanillo created some back chatter we were able to catch. I want you to hear it.” 

“Sure,” Rictor said uneasily, knowing this was going to be another personal blow and preparing himself for it. Right off the bat was a voice he recognized, blasting at someone on the other end: _“-D’you know how long it took to collect that many trained men? What the fuck happened?!“_  

“That’s Gabriel Richter,” Ric muttered. 

 _“Look, the info I got on the long-haired prick was faulty, okay?”_ came the response. 

Just hearing it brought the blood surfacing to Julio’s face. “Jake Martinez.” 

_“-He was considered the weakest powerset of the group. A Delta. How the fuck was I supposed to know he could fight with those pig-stickers like that?”_

_“The hundred dead men from before should’ve been a clue, you asshole! That and the fact he was blowing up the trucks with his power.”_

_“Oh, hey man, don’t pin that shit on me. I was told he was using some sort of untraceable plastique or something.”_

_“He blew that warehouse to smithereens! We couldn’t get at our men he killed before the cops were all over the place. Those guys are gonna be traced back to me!”_

_“Look, at least Julio found his buddy, right? There ain’t been sight or sound of the little shit since he rabbitted outta there. Cops found the truck, but he and his dead pal are long gone. He’s gone back to his mutie freaks with his tail between his legs.”_ The smug assurance in the hitman’s tone was unmistakable. 

Rictor’s chair was beginning to make a staccato sound against the hardwood floor and he realized he was beginning to vibrate with fury. He reined in his power with difficulty. 

 _“You dunno that for sure.”_ Gabe said darkly. 

 _“I’ll bet my life on it.”_ Jake shot back. 

“Bet accepted.” Miguel heard Rictor mutter under his breath. 

 _“Neither of you know Julio like I do-”_ spoke up a new voice. 

“Gonzalo,” Ric muttered in surprise, realizing this was a conference call he was listening to. 

 _“Take my word for it. He hasn’t given up. I’ve seen him use his power. I know what he did in San Francisco. You idiots better get outta Guadalajara before he finds you. Hell, you better get outta the damned country!”_  

 _“I’ve got an army to rebuild thanks to that redheaded fuck.”_ Martinez snarled. _“I gotta tip of some mercs in Guatemala. I’m heading down to Tikal in the morning to see if they’re worth the hype.”_

 _“I have to try and rebuild some old contacts those two jeopardized. It’s a bad time to be lying low,”_ Gabe said. 

_“Suit yourself. I warned you after the first hit to be careful and look what happened. Me and Hector are taking over the North-“_

_“What the fuck-?!”_ Gabriel exploded. 

 _“That’s our territory now. What, you gonna take my head off with your lone guard dog? I fuckin dare you.”_ There was a blast of bitter laughter.

_“You opportunistic fuck!”_

_“We always gave you the scraps. Right now you’re choking on them,”_ Gonzo said and there was a ‘click’ as he hung up. 

 _“... You want me to stay close?”_ Martinez offered. 

 _“Fuck no! Go get those guys. Offer them anything to get ‘em back here. I’ll fix what I can!”_ Gabe sputtered and severed the connection with no subtlety. 

“Dissention in the ranks,” Ric said, leaning back in his chair. “The three of them never got along. I’m glad to see that things are even more strained.” 

“Thanks to you and Star,” Miguel said, and watched the youth’s cold smile broaden. 

“I want to head on down to Guatemala and catch Martinez before he can recoup his losses.” 

The agent shook his head. “No, Julio.” 

“Weren’t you listening? Pretty soon he’s gonna have another army of goons at his disposal. You want to risk that happening?” 

“Near as I can tell, it’s a minor concern once Shatterstar is back in prime fighting condition. I’m not sending you anywhere alone. Now’s the time to lie low and strategize, not go off on some grudge match.” 

Bright fury lit Ric’s brown eyes. “You know what he did to Star, but you didn’t see it. You didn’t see what he looked like after they were done with him. I’m gonna kill Martinez. I’m gonna turn him inside-out with my power. _I’m gonna wreck that motherfucker up so bad, he-!“_  

 _“Julio!”_ Miguel barked, slapping a hand down on the desk. “Calm down!” 

He had been doing more than shaking the chair again. This time the entire office was rattling. Ric lifted his glowing hands to eye level and squeezed them into tight fists, willing himself to power down. It wasn’t easy and he had to close his eyes and try and concentrate on an image that wasn’t brutal or violent. There wasn’t a lot of resource material of that genre for him to fall back on. While he struggled to regain control, Tony and Felicia rushed to their boss's office window, no doubt feeling the tremors, but Miguel waved them back. 

The tremors eventually eased and faded altogether. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” Julio finally rasped, sweat running down his face in rivulets. He looked at his hands and saw that his nails had left crescent-shaped marks in both palms, but at least they had stopped glowing. “But- oh god, man, if you’d seen him ...” 

“I’m the one who pulled Sophia out of the dumpster,” Miguel said softly. “We dated a few times before she went undercover. I understand your rage. I feel it, too. I know it hurts. You have to try and channel it into a positive thing or it’ll drive you crazy.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s too late for that,” Ric said, staring down at the floor and wiping his face. “I am a Richter, after all. Crazy is in my blood.” 

“Let Martinez go south. It’ll keep him and Gabriel preoccupied for the next week or so. Plenty of time for you to relax and Star to train. The damage you two did to their gun trafficking business can’t be repaired overnight. Especially not with the Death Dealers moving in. If we coordinate this right, we can have them both go to war with each other.” 

“Holy shit, is that the plan?” 

“It happens a lot down here. Move a few chess pieces around at the right time and place and the battle goes down with minimal civilian casualties. Then we swoop in and pick up who’s left standing. It’s dirty and it works.” 

Rictor was beginning to get an idea of what Miguel was expecting of them. “What does that make Star and me? Pawns? Rooks?” 

“Knights sound more noble. There’s only two on a board and they move in erratic patterns. My department and the DEA are calling this little venture 'Operation Chessboard'.” 

“Cute. Just so you know, Star is a chess master. You better know what you’re talking about or he’s going to correct you to death.” 

Miguel’s lips twitched in amusement. “Point taken.” 

The next few hours were spent in conversation and looking over scores of photos taken with a long-distance lens. A part of Ric was bothered to see the pictures of his half-sisters and step-mother included among the motley band of relatives. It brought home the reality that he and Star were tampering with his family’s only source of income. He wasn’t fond of his half-sisters Michelle or Erica, and he wasn’t particularly close to his step-mother Frieda, but he sure didn’t want them to suffer hardship and probably lose their house and be out on the streets. All started because Ric had felt a kinship towards a gay associate and wanted to exact revenge on his behalf. Innocents were going to suffer for his actions. Unlike strangers at the mercy of the death his relatives trafficked in, these victims had faces and names. 

He was still musing that over when they drove back to the main office and saw Star sitting on the steps in front of the building obviously waiting for them. And he wasn’t alone. 

 _“¡¿Qué pedo!?”_ Ric muttered in disbelief. 

“He made it. Great!” Miguel said, pulling up alongside the two. “I talked to my DEA contact and he said he’d send his undercover operative up to lend a hand. Turns out you guys all know each other.” 

“You could say that,” Rictor grumbled as the pair rose to their feet. He was glaring at the man standing beside Shatterstar who had an arm draped across the redhead’s broad shoulders. 

It was Adam Neramani. The alien mutant also known as X-Treme. 

 

* * *

 


	10. Blast From the Past

There was very little that was different with Adam X, Rictor’s critical eye noted with acute resentment. Same wild blond hair complete with braids and beads, same goatee (and, seeing it, Ric wondered if that was why Star had been so damned determined to grow one), same stupid baseball cap turned backwards, same elaborate tattoo designs around his eyes that marked his Shi’ar heritage along with those pointed Spock-ears covered in piercings. Same know-it-all smirk on his tanned, handsome face. About the only thing different were his clothes. The dark blue leathers and blades were gone in favor of a sleeveless black T-shirt and jean shorts with sandals on his bare feet. His costume and weapons were probably all tucked away in the duffle bag sitting beside Star's. “Well, look who else is here! My favorite beaner.” He said sarcastically to Ric, tipping a sly wink at Miguel. “No offense.” 

“Can you believe it, Rictor?” Shatterstar was clearly excited. He hadn’t looked that happy since ... Ric had to struggle to remember and came up distressingly blank. “Adam is here to help me train. Isn’t that good news?” 

“Fantastic.” Ric drawled, fingering the sleeve of Star’s shirt. “Why is this bloody?” 

“My fault,” Adam said. “I saw him training in the gym and threw a thet'je spike at him.” 

Bright anger flashed in Julio’s eyes. “You did _what?!_ ” 

“Hey _roosha_ , I didn’t know the circumstances. I figured he’d duck!” Adam said defensively. “Star just told me what happened to him. Back from the dead, _chayeh_? Maybe I should start calling you Jesus.” 

Shatterstar only blinked back at him in confusion, not understanding the reference, to which Adam added, “Never mind.” 

“So will this be close enough to a weapons-master to help get you back on your feet, Shatterstar?” Miguel asked. 

“’Weapons-master’? You gotta be kidding me.” Ric huffed under his breath. 

“Yes. Thank you, b’rev Lopez,” the Mojoworlder responded eagerly, slapping Adam’s shoulder. “X-Treme is well-versed in both armed and unarmed combat. He will make an excellent sparring partner. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

Adam shrugged and grinned. “This’ll be the closest thing to a vacation I’ve had in months. Glad to be of service.” 

“I’ll bet,” Ric muttered under his breath again. This time Miguel favored him with a curious look. 

“Adam is going to be your escort and liaison from now on. He doesn’t have to stay hidden like you two and can come and go as he pleases. If you need anything, just call him.” Miguel offered a business card to Julio, who made no effort to take it, and handed it over to Star instead. 

“I’m booked in a fine suite and even have my own expense account and government-sponsored car,” Adam bragged, cocking a thumb to a black sedan that was in the parking lot, deliberately taking up two spaces. “Hop in and I’ll drive you both back to your sad-ass roach motel.” 

“Shatterstar can go with you. I’ll drive Rictor back and meet you there,” Miguel said. 

"Hey! Wait a min-" Ric was interrupted by Miguel nudging him back to the car. 

“Sweet. Let’s go, _roosha_ , we’ve got lots of catching up to do,” Adam said, picking up their bags. Star followed close beside him without so much as a backwards glance to Ric, who whirled sharply about on his heel and dropped down into the passenger seat of Miguel's car, crossing his arms in an evident sulk. When Adam blasted by them with a squeal of tires, cheerfully beeping the horn, Rictor flashed him an erect middle finger. 

“I am sensing a little bit of tension from this reunion,” the agent said diplomatically once he was seated behind the wheel. 

“Fuckin X-Treme. Of all the mutant assholes in the world, you had to go and pick _that_ one.” 

“He’s in the same boat you guys are; got into some trouble in the ‘States and came down to Latin America to escape it. He hooked up with the Drug Enforcement Agency six months ago when they crossed paths. He was pulling the same vigilante bullshit you two were doing and they decided to offer him a job.” 

“Off the books.” Ric surmised. 

“That’s right. He’s made reference to being allies with X-Force in his personal file. Spoke positively of the group. I wasn’t aware there were any problems.” 

“We were _never_ allies. Let’s set that record straight right off the bat. First time we met, _he_ attacked _us_. We ended up helping him out of a jam. Never even got so much as a thanks for it. Second time, it was just him and Star who crossed paths. They were forced to fight each other and Star was so messed up from it he spent the night having to heal. The guy’s a total prick.” 

There was a long span of silence as Miguel carefully negotiated traffic (and his thoughts) before pointing out: “Shatterstar seems to enjoy his company.” 

“They’ve got some kind of weird bond,” Julio grumbled. He sensed the agent looking at him and his cheeks reddened as he elaborated further with, “It’s an alien-warrior thing. They’re both stranded on earth and both have the same kind of honor code. It isn’t anything, y'know, sexual.” He didn’t sound quite so sure of himself on that last bit and Miguel could detect the jealousy the young man was emanating in waves. 

It was times like these that Miguel wished he’d had kids of his own so that he could identify with this troubled young man. Things were bad enough being a teenager without the added burden of being a mutant. Add in a complicated gay relationship and it was small wonder the youth was floundering. The ATF agent only had his own experience and training to fall back on. Fortunately, it was extensive enough to be of some assistance (or so he hoped). “When I was dating Sophia, she didn’t believe I could be on good terms with my ex-wife without thinking we were up to something.” 

To his relief, Julio took the bait. “Were you?” 

“No, we were just friends, but she simply couldn’t wrap her head around it. She chose that undercover assignment out of spite and look what happened.” He hoped that Julio wasn’t so blind by his resentment of Adam Neramani that he didn’t hear the warning in what he’d been told. 

Ric nodded and lapsed into sullen silence all the way back to the apartment. He remembered being a jealous, possessive asshole when he had been sorta-kinda dating Rahne Sinclair. Shatterstar was his first serious relationship. He had a feeling if it had been anyone else used to Earth and its customs, they would have headed for the nearest exit by now rather than deal with him and his insecure bullshit. If he made a big deal about Star’s friendship with Adam, he was going to drive them _both_ away. Miguel’s short, personal story had clearly been a caution not to go that route. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. They arrived in front of the hotel and there was no sign of Adam’s car. The two were off to hell knows where. Ric took a deep breath to steady his nerves as they waited. _No, it wasn’t going to be easy at all._  

Fifteen minutes later, Adam’s black sedan pulled up behind them, flashing its lights. Shatterstar exited the passenger side, holding several bags of McDonald’s take-out. When he spotted Rictor getting out of Miguel’s car, he flashed him a broad grin and held up one the bags. “You told me last night how badly you were pining for ‘The Mickey of D’s’ so I persuaded Adam to find us one.” 

Ric’s eyes widened in surprise. “You got me a Big Mac?” 

“Two!” 

“My treat,” Adam said, leaning over the car’s roof and looking at Ric. “I know from experience that spicy Mexican crap gets old after awhile, _chayeh_?" 

A small smile came to Julio’s face, easier than he thought it would be. “Yeah, you're right.” 

Adam pointed at Shatterstar. “I’ll pick you up at about eight tomorrow morning. Get plenty of sleep because I’m going to put you through your paces. Believe it. You’re welcome to come along, Rictor, if you think you can keep up with us.” 

“Thanks. I think I’ll pass this time around.” Just for appearances sake, he offered, “You can come up and visit for a while if, y’know, you want to.” Privately, he hoped he would be turned down. He and Star were careful to return the twin beds back to their original positions come morning so that there was no trace of their hotel room looking anything other than like two single guys forced to share quarters. Still, he often wondered if there might be other clues of their relationship someone sharp like Adam might notice. 

“I’ll have to take a rain check on that. I’ve got a sweet, beautiful Latino honey lying in her bed just waiting to scream my name.” 

“Who is she?” Star asked curiously. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t met her yet. But I will. I always do,” Adam said, flashing that cocky grin of his. He got back in his car and pulled away from the curb with another squeal of tires, extending an arm out of the window as he waved good-bye. 

 _Sleazy douche bag._ Ric managed to keep that opinion confined to his mind. Barely. He felt a hand on his arm and looked up into Star’s handsome face and immediately forgot all about the troublesome Shi’ar hybrid. 

“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” Star said, passing a nod of gratitude to Miguel before he entered the building. Ric gave the agent a thumbs-up sign when the alien’s back was turned and followed after his partner. 

Miguel stared at the closed door for a minute before he started the engine and decided to head home for the day. It was tempting to go back to the office and listen in on the wiretap, but figured the pair deserved their privacy this go-around. 

* * *

 

 

“Oh man,” Ric said with satisfaction as he looked at the litter of fast food wrappers scattered across the dining table. “Tacos, enchiladas, and burritos are all fine and good, but nothing beats a good old fashioned greasy burger. That really hit the spot. Thanks, Star.” 

The alien was looking at the mess in an equal full-stomached stupor. “I do miss the convenient foodstuffs of the ‘States. I know that everything is better than Mojoworld protein rations, but now I am beginning to discover certain partialities.” 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“Your Mexican casserole is better than Domino’s Eggplant Parmesan. Homemade milkshakes are better than store bought ones. Red licorice is tasty, but gummi bears are disgusting.” 

“Dude, you can’t dis a gummi bear. It’s sacrilegious,” Ric said with a grin. “Next, you’ll tell me that you don’t like Junior Mints.” 

“They are acceptable, but Milk Duds are better.” 

Ric slapped hands to his ears and cried: “Oh, the horror!” He was gifted with the too-rare sound of Star’s laughter. “Wow, there’s something I haven’t heard for awhile,” he said wistfully, smiling at his best friend. “I’m some glad to hear it again.” 

“I’m happy.” 

“Because of Adam, right?” Ric struggled to keep the mood light but dropped his eyes to the table. 

“Yes,” Star said honestly. “I know his presence here troubles you. I will not speak of him again.” 

“No, dude, I want you to feel like you can talk about anything around me. Even X-Treme. It’s just ...” Julio picked up a paper wrapper and began to idly shred it while he composed his thoughts for a moment before deciding to lay all his cards on the table. “I guess it’s just jealously kicking in. He’s tall, good-looking, he kicks serious ass. I could understand it if you found him, well ... more attractive than you do me.” 

“But I don’t,” Star said, staring at Julio in confusion. “His looks are not even to Russell’s partiality. His voice is higher pitched than yours, I do not like his hair or his eyes, and he is self-centered. I view him as a friend, but nothing more than that. I love _you_.” 

“I love you, too. I guess that’s why I act like a jerk whenever I spot someone who could be potential competition. Especially someone like him.” 

Star moved their chairs closer together and then held Ric’s chin in his hand and stroked his thumb over Ric’s bottom lip. "You don’t have enough faith in yourself, Julio. You care about people and you’re one of the most powerful mutants on this planet. X-Treme has nothing on you in either regard.” 

Rictor looked up into that sincere silver-blue regard and struggled to find words. “Thanks, man. I think I-I really needed to hear that.” 

“I think you did, too,” Star murmured. He leaned over and kissed him, slow and tenderly at first, then harder and with more passion. Ric reached up and grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him closer, almost crawling into his lap. Both young men groaned a little as their lips mashed hard, wanting more. They gripped each other tight as their mouths worked for purchase. 

Ric started moaning and rubbing his crotch against Star’s thigh and he felt the alien’s hands slipping beneath the material of his jeans and start kneading his ass. He pulled away long enough to pull off his shirt and then he grabbed Star’s face and kissed him with feverish passion. Star took in that lustful kiss like he was starving. He sucked on Ric’s tongue and stroked it with his own. When he managed to break for air, there was a trace of that dazed contentment on his face from before. “Mm. You taste like a burger.” 

“I come with my own secret sauce, too,” Ric quipped and was rewarded with that rare laughter again. The sound made the hairs rise on his arms and his cock twitch in his pants. As their kisses became deeper and more frantic, they managed to make their way over to one of the single beds. The frame creaked under their combined weight. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Ric managed to say, almost panting as Star’s hands began to get insistent and were pulling down his pants to get at the rod that was tenting his underwear. He laid a hand on the alien’s bulging crotch and squeezed, eliciting a responsive growl of lust, but it served its purpose and got his attention. “X-Treme’s gonna really put you through the wringer tomorrow. Maybe we should just take it easy and let you get some rest.” 

Star grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding him and looked Ric square in the eye. “ _Fekt X-Treme_ ,” he said through clenched teeth and flipped Ric over onto his back and went down on him. Those were quite possibly two of the sexiest words Julio could have ever heard in the heat of the moment and he blissfully submitted to his partner’s oral engulfment with a euphoric grin. 

Shatterstar went to work on Ric's cock with a hungry ferocity, sucking hard and deep and fast. No slow build-up. No teasing. He seemed determined to pull Julio's load from him in record time. It was unusual for him to take such an aggressive lead. It wasn't a thing he would have done before being blended with Ben Russell's mental remnants.  
  
Ric wasn't knocking it. He grabbed fistfuls of the coverlet and was as verbal as ever, releasing a steady stream of groans and muffled curses and rough, unsteady breaths at the feel of that slurping tongue and hot mouth. He wanted to make this last longer, wanted to really feel every bit of Star's soft, full lips and hot, slick throat, but he'd been hard since they started kissing at the table and he simply couldn't wait for this opportunity to empty his balls. He threaded his fingers through that long thick red hair he loved so much and raised his head, his eyes fixed on the incredible sight below his waist. The image of Star's head bobbing on his cock and his own hands gripping that bright red mane of hair was enough to push him over the edge.  
  
"Gav," he gasped. "I'm gonna ... if you don't stop, I'm-"  
  
Star pulled off just long enough to growl, "Do it." Then he plunged back down and sucked hard. 

Julio's fingers tightened in the warrior's hair. "Oh _god!_ Ungh! _Fuck!_ " He spurted hot, tangy streams into that welcoming mouth and Star drank him down without hesitation. He suckled the last drops from that twitching rod while Ric could only lie there and pant in wrung-out contentment as he came down from his release. 

"Secret sauce," Star rumbled contentedly when he pulled away, licking the tip and playing with the dark foreskin; capping and uncapping the turgid cock as it softened. He had never known that penises were intended to possess that extra length of skin. It was something Mojoverse designers had overlooked in their creation of all male slaves. He found it strangely fascinating; the only real, physical proof of their different planetary origins, and in such an _odd_ place. "Better than the burger. No comparison." 

Smiling, he raised himself up on his powerful arms and kissed Julio. The Hispanic opened his mouth wide for Star's tongue, sucking it into his mouth. He had come to enjoy the taste of his own seed and pulled the alien in closer to share that tart flavor between them. They kissed with slow passion. 

Ric moved lower and nuzzled his face into Star's neck, letting his stubble scratch the smooth, warm skin that he longed to explore. His lips moved to the hollow of the warrior's throat where he raised a bruise that made Star gasp in bliss. Hungry, wet lips nipped and kissed that exposed throat. First his fingers, then his mouth slid to the alien's sensitive nipples and Star cried out as Julio teethed them into little knots. Sliding down his muscular torso, he hovered over his partner's straining cock and flicked a teasing smirk at him before taking it lovingly into his mouth. 

Star let out a moan of desire and surrendered himself completely to that sensation, squeezing his eyes shut. The sight roused a powerful sense of accomplishment in Rictor. It was something he’d needed to feel ever since Adam had made his unwelcome appearance. Shatterstar was trusting enough to relax completely around him, his swords nowhere in sight. When, at any point in his entire life, had the warrior permitted that to happen? Only when the two of them were alone. Only while with him. _Him alone!_ Julio's love for the alien surged deep in his chest until it almost pained him. He resolved he would not let that trust go unrewarded and swallowed that hard cock down, intending to make it the best blowjob he ever gave. 

He was hugely successful. 

Much later, the pair were holding each other closely in a post-coital embrace. Either could have dismissed the proximity as necessity because the bed was so narrow, but the reality was that they both enjoyed that closeness. Ric, always so insecure, felt comforted and protected in the muscular arms of the larger man. Star had never even known what a hug was until he came to earth and found that he now relished being in the arms of another. He still wasn’t quite sure why, but the part of him that was now bonded to Russell told him that it meant he was safe. That was explanation enough. 

“Nights like this... I never want ‘em to end,” Julio whispered, rubbing the warrior’s muscled arm lying across his stomach. “They just feel so perfect.” 

“ _Codlista._ It makes me believe that my being sent to earth wasn’t a mistake.” Star sighed, settled in the crook of his partner's shoulder. 

Julio looked at him in surprise. “Is that what you think?” 

“Not anymore. Mostly when I was with X-Force. Everything was so confusing for me when I joined and few had the patience to explain anything. It was a poor way to start an alliance. In the beginning, I didn't think much of my teammates.” 

Ric’s grunted. “Small wonder. James and Roberto being the homophobes they were. Cable using you like he did. Feral switching sides like it was a game of tennis. Hell, I was a dick when we first met, too.” 

“You were ... conflicted.” 

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Man, there was that time when we were at Camp Verde when you took the remote control from me and started channel surfing like a maniac. I wanted to fucking punch you.” 

“Was that the day you chewed on your hat?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Curious. Up until now I never knew that was what had bothered you. You left the room muttering Spanish. It was after that I decided to learn the language just in case I was missing something important.” 

That roused a chuckle out of Ric. “Are you serious?” 

“I thought you were speaking code!” 

That was it. Rictor brayed laughter and Star joined him, trying to smother his mirth against the Mexican’s left pec. The feel of the warrior’s mouth so near his nipple was making Julio’s libido rise (among other things) and he ended the laughter by capturing Star’s mouth. He meant it to be a short, sweet kiss, but the minute their lips touched, passion spiked through both of them and in short order their bodies were writhing madly against each other’s again. It was sensory overload at its basest design; lust and desire and –finally- the exhausting aftermath of mutual satisfaction. 

By then, it was very late in the night and even Star had to concede that he would need at least a few hours sleep before Adam showed up. Being tangled with Rictor’s body would only hinder the effort. He kissed his lover affectionately and went to the other bed and fell asleep within minutes. Julio was already asleep, but his unconscious body registered the loss of the extra body warmth and it shivered in the air conditioned room, curling into a miserable ball. Star woke up about an hour later and covered him tenderly with the sheet. 

“Silly _vehjka_ ,” he murmured with a warm smile and went back to bed. 

The next morning, he let Julio sleep in when he woke up early and took a shower alone. He felt oddly energized with the prospect of training with Adam today and that was probably the reason he had been so insatiable the night before. It was going to be a full day of hand-to-hand combat and the clash of steel and there was little that got his blood pumping more than that. He was thoughtfully chewing on a bagel and day-dreaming about strategies when Ric plopped down at the table looking like someone who had spent the night wrestling (which, when dealing with an amorous Star, was actually a very close approximation). He moved gingerly, as if he had some sore muscles, and his dark hair was a riotous mess, but there was a mischievous glint to his brown eyes and he was wearing a lop-sided grin. “Last night was _fantastic_.” 

Star smiled back. “Codlista.” 

“You get enough sleep?” 

“Even if I didn’t, I have a healing factor. Adam does not. He will wear out long before I do, concealing it as a ‘break’ to inspect his weapons.” 

“Really? Huh. I guess you really do know him,” Ric said. He fingered a muffin in his hands for a moment and then blurted out, “Star? I know that you’re friends with the guy, but I don’t think you should tell him about us. You haven’t yet, have you?” 

“It hasn’t come into the conversation. Adam tends to talk about himself quite a bit.” The alien stared at his partner curiously. “Why do you want me to keep our relationship a secret?” 

“It’s just from listening to him talk. It’s pretty clear he’s straight. Guys who brag about women the way he does usually turn out to be like Jimmy. I don’t want your friendship with him to turn into something weird, that’s all.” 

“Adam is half Shi’ar.” 

“I don’t know how the Shi’ar view gays or bisexuals,” Ric admitted. “But I know how humans do, and he’s also half that. Just ... be careful, that’s all I’m saying.” 

Shatterstar was still mulling over the caution when there was a sharp rap of knuckles on the door. 

“Shit, he’s early,” Ric muttered, glancing at the clock. He went to the bedroom and hastily pulled on a pair of jeans while Star walked over to the door to look through the peep hole. Adam had his own eye pressed against the other side; piercing dark blue, and the alien undid the various locks and opened the door. 

“Morning gents,” Adam said, dressed in his shirt-sleeved uniform but at least had the common sense not to walk around armed. At least, not yet. He caught a glance at Rictor’s disheveled state and remarked, “Kythri’s bloody claws! You look like some coochie chewed you up and spit you out.” 

Deciding that the reference was too personal (and vaguely accurate) Ric simply offered an enigmatic shrug and said, “Let’s just say I had a great night and leave it at that.” 

“Fair enough,” Adam said, turning to Star. “I hope you took my advice and got a fair amount of rest. We’re going out to a patch of jungle I scoped out earlier and test your limits before we get down to business. I want to see just how bad off you are first.” 

Star immediately became defensive and angry. “I haven’t lost my skills! I’m still a better warrior than you!” 

A slow, calculating smile crept across Adam’s face. “Oh man, are we gonna have fun today. I’m _so_ gonna kick your ass, _sy'thian_.” 

“Cocky _vehjka_ -!” 

“Just take it easy. The both of you,” Julio cautioned. “The first time you two clashed, you both got concussions-“ 

“That was because of your interfering Indian!” Adam snapped. 

“Native American,” Ric corrected, and added, “The second time, Star spent a night letting his guts heal.” 

“That’s because I stabbed myself,” Star admitted. “It was not X-Treme’s fault.” 

“Damn straight. I still think you were a _rakking_ idiot for doing it, too.” 

“The strategy was sound and it ended the conflict, yes?” 

“ _Chayeh_ , but-“ 

“I’m just saying one or both of you always seem to get hurt every time you two fight!” Ric shouted in frustration. “Just be careful out there.” 

“Whatever, ‘mom’,” Adam said, rolling his eyes at the other alien. “You ready?” 

“Yes,” Star said, retrieving the duffle bag that held his Mojoworld uniform and swords. “Let’s go.” On his way out, he spared Rictor a half-smile that he hoped the other man would take as reassurance. 

It didn’t work. Julio spent the entire morning a nervous, fidgeting wreck.


	11. Reality Check

Shatterstar’s morning started off with a broken nose and went downhill from there. 

X-Treme picked a spot that was out of the city and far off the main road to a clearing that was surrounded with tall trees and brush safe from possible prying eyes or long-range scopes. He had taken Miguel Lopez's cautions to heart that both Star and Ric needed to be kept out of sight for as long as possible. He resolved to be true to his word and test the Mojoworlder’s reflexes and fighting prowess as soon as they were settled at their location and wearing all their gear. To be honest, Adam was a little skeptical of the tale of Star's miraculous resurrection and wanted to see the changes in the warrior's skills for himself. Right off the bat, he was surprised by just how badly skewed the warrior’s depth perception was. Star easily blocked a few kicks and several punches as they eased into a friendly spar, but he misjudged an incoming blow and got popped right on the bridge of his nose. It broke with a distinct snap and blood spurted from both nostrils. 

 _“Fekt!”_ Star snarled, cradling his face and staggering backwards. 

“Brathe’s Tears, man. I wasn’t even trying too hard,” Adam marveled, hardly believing he had managed to score ‘first blood’ so quickly and with hardly any effort. “Your eyesight is seriously messed up, isn’t it?” 

 _“Bai,”_ Star said, spitting out a mouthful of snot and blood. “Yes. I’ve downplayed its severity to Rictor, but I can hardly focus on what is playing on a vid, let alone read fine print.” He gripped the bridge of his nose between two knuckles and twisted the broken cartilage back into place with a grunt of pain; the action of a person who has had to do such a thing before. Probably several times. He blinked away pained tears and then settled into place to continue fighting. 

Adam made the gesture with his hands calling for a time-out. “At least wait for it to stop bleeding first,” he said, pulling out a towel from his duffle bag. He threw it at the other alien. “Has your vision always been that bad?” 

“No," Star said in a muffled, nasally tone as he pressed the towel to his face. "My sight was perfect when I emerged from the Source and trained as a crècheling. When I became a gladiator, my master magically linked this-” He gestured to the eight-pointed star tattoo over his left eye. “To a vid display so that the Audience could watch my battles from a first-person perspective. For some reason, I had a bad reaction to the spell and it caused a visual deficiency in that eye. The Whitecoats couldn’t undo the damage without disrupting Mojo’s magic, which was forbidden. I had no choice but to learn to adapt to it. My other senses are augmented and could compensate for the lapse, but now both eyes have been restored to their original state. I’m having trouble getting used to proper depth perception again. When you punched me, I thought I had at least an inch to spare.” He wiped his face clean and then went back into his fighting pose. "I need to relearn my limits." 

With a nod of understanding, X-Treme squared off and the two went back to sparring again. After a few more glancing hits on his healing nose, Star was beginning to compensate for his old bad habits and knew he was gaining on his vision problems when he scored a hit on Adam. That brought a grim smile to his lips. 

There was a strange smirk on Adam's face when he wiped his mouth and looked at the smear of blood across the back of his hand. "Time for the kid gloves to come off, _chayeh_?" 

" _Codlista_." 

Mojoworlder and hybrid flew into one another; a blur of strikes, kicks, and blocks. Star moved like a possessed soul and several of his punches and kicks actually got through X-Treme's defenses. One palm heel glanced off of his cheekbone while a knee barely missed connecting with his groin. His kicks and blows put X-Treme on an unexpected defensive and the Shi'ar half-breed actually gave ground. With a sudden snarl of anger, Adam dropped into a low stance and released a straight-up sidekick that collided with the younger man's jaw and knocked him back a few feet. This time, when Star wiped his mouth, there was blood on the back of his hand from a split lip. 

The pair regarded one another for a long, considering moment. Adam stood in a rooted stance and faced him squarely without any fear, making the mocking "come on" gesture. 

Moving with a burst of unbelievable speed, Star vaulted and spun, landing behind the other alien faster than the eye could track. Adam felt a knee connect with his lower back and knew that he'd be pissing blood by evening. If there was anything that he hated more than getting nailed in the nuts, it was a cheap shot to the kidneys. With a curse, he brought his elbow straight back and heard a satisfying exhale of breath as his strike connected with Shatterstar's ribcage. After that, he dropped to the ground and knocked the Mojoworlder off-balance with a low sideswipe with his right leg. Not to be outdone, the other alien fell back on his muscular arms and kicked out with both feet connecting squarely with X-Treme's stomach, driving him backwards. 

Despite the successful blow, it was Star who released a shout of pain. He dropped heavily to the ground and gripped his right wrist. " _Fekt'ky!"_

"Talons of T'thyees'sha," Adam grumbled, rubbing his stomach. "What's the bloody problem now?" He watched Star twist his wrist and heard the snap of bones being realigned. "... Oh yeah. Your hands are messed up, too. I forgot." 

Star cradled his hand to his chest and dropped his head in defeat. "I cannot even blame Martinez for this. I overused my mutant power to the extent that I made my swords explode, taking my hands along with them. The Time Dancer restored them, but they'll never be as strong as they were." 

"You don't know that for sure. We've been fighting for barely an hour," the hybrid said, kneeling beside him. 

"The bones are weak." 

"Your bones are hollow, of course they're weak. It's the muscles that need to toughen up." 

"That is not going to happen in a day. Or a week," Star fretted. "I do not have another fifteen years of steady combat to get them back to how they were. They're useless. _This_ is useless-" He got to his feet and walked over to where his street clothes were lying neatly folded in a pile. He pulled off his padded helmet and threw it to the ground with a muttered curse. 

He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head marginally to the side, he saw Adam staring at him with a disapproving frown on his face. "You're giving up? Are you kidding me?" 

"I am not as I was." 

"No shit. The Shatterstar I remember would _never_ give up so easily. You compensated for that eye problem in no time. You need to be more patient with your hands. They'll come around." 

"It isn't just the eyes or hands. Not anymore," the redhead said. He made a vague gesture to his head with his uninjured hand. "I have been compromised. Up here." 

"Look, _roosha,_ I know. You were tortured. It's perfectly understandable-" 

"I was tortured during my entire adolescence. It is not that. It's Russell." 

"Who?" 

Star released a drawn-out sigh. "This happened months after our conflict with Arcade. I was attacked by a telepath named the Gamesmaster who implanted a rogue personality into my mind just for the purpose of driving me insane. Rictor managed to save me from extensive manipulation, but the memories and personality remnants of a street youth named Benjamin Russell remained in my mind. I managed to keep them at bay until-" He almost said _her_ name and sidestepped it with; "My death. When I was resurrected, my brain became a gestalt of both consciousnesses. I _should_ be the dominant one, but in many ways Russell is stronger because I lack experience processing emotions. I'm used to following orders. It's my base design and makes it difficult for me to behave otherwise. Russell, however, is unpredictable; a free spirit and not particularly stable." 

"So you're telling me that _he's_ the quitter?" 

Star made a wry face and looked away. "He prefers the path of least resistance." 

"He's a _rakking_ coward! And so are you if you walk away from this." Adam snapped. "I know you're not that, so- _C'mon!_ " He settled back down into a fighting stance. 

"My hand-" 

" _Rakk_ your hand and _rakk_ you!" X-Treme hollered and executed a series of lightening-fast feints before appearing directly in front of Star and knocking him backwards with a deliberate punch to the face, almost breaking his recently healed nose again. Star avoided a one-knuckle swipe aimed for his throat-barely- and leapt into the air. Executing a swift flip, he released a side-snap kick that nailed the hybrid on the side of the head. It knocked Adam off of his feet and sent him sprawling to the ground. 

"I know what you're trying to do," Star said in a deceptively calm voice. "You're trying to get me angry." 

Adam spit out some dirt and looked over his shoulder at him. "Is it working?" 

"No." 

"Then I'm not trying hard enough!" he shouted, leaping back to his feet in one fluid motion faster than the eye could track. He lashed out with fists and feet. There was a desperate intensity behind his assault and Star was genuinely shocked by the strength, skill, and speed of the hybrid's myriad attacks. The transitions between the warrior's moves were effortless and fluid. All motion was the height of perfection; aerial maneuvers, flexibility, posture, and stance. Shatterstar's trained eye took note of everything as he desperately avoided key blows and returned others point for point. 

Jumping back to avoid a hammer-fist strike that would have easily shattered a rib, Star finally lost his temper and let the battle lust drop over his mind. All at once, X-Treme found himself on the receiving end of the Mojoworlder's unique repertoire of martial arts; gainer flash, whip back, spear-fist thrust, reverse kick, ridge-hand strike, dagger lunge- Adam could find no defense against that frenzied alien attack and in the span of twenty swift heartbeats, he was back on the ground. This time he was spitting up blood. 

Star gripped his right wrist, grimacing in pain. His left wasn't much better; now he had several broken knuckles. His strength was five times greater than the other alien’s, although they were very evenly matched in almost all other areas. Adam didn’t have a healing factor and Star saw no necessity to incapacitate him unnecessarily. "Stand down, X-Treme. We have evaluated my skills as you desired and found them lacking. Let's go back to the hotel-" 

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one down here eating grass," Adam remarked, looking far calmer than the situation warranted. If anything, he almost looked relieved as he forced himself up to a kneeling position. "There's nothing wrong with your fighting ability. I think you're even faster than you used to be. No so muscle-bound any more would be my reasoning. Now, we'll move onto swords." 

"But, Adam, my _hands_ -!" 

"Oh, quit your bitching! I bet you didn't pull that shit with your weapon-masters on Mojoworld, did you?" 

 _I wouldn't have dared,_ Star thought, thinking back to those larger-than-life scarred trainers who had orders to kill any crècheling who so much as hesitated taking a weapon, whether out of fear or injury. It meant no difference to them if it meant they could lighten their training-load. They were eager for any excuse to execute an unskilled youth. Shatterstar wasn't unskilled, but he was injured. And he was more than a little afraid. He suspected his handling of a sword was going to be as rough as his initial fight with X-Treme had been. 

He wasn't wrong. 

Adam gave Star a half-hour for his healing factor to lessen the damage to his hands. Then he pointed to the redhead's bag. The expression on his face was that of a man who refused to take no for an answer. Star tried to face him down but ultimately caved and picked up his swords. He eyed the unfamiliar weapons with disdain, thinking of Martinez and his men, of the torture, of the chainsaws. He was trying to get himself mentally worked up in preparation for the combat to come, but all that came back was a staggering sensation of loss. These were not his swords; they were copies of Spiral's, and that brought on emotions that made it almost impossible to concentrate. None of which he could, or would, betray to X-Treme who was looking more agitated the longer he hesitated. With a barely-submerged sigh, he settled into a battle stance but knew what the outcome would be even before the other alien attacked. 

The first half-a-dozen times, Adam easily knocked the weapons out of Star's weakened grips. The next few clashes after that, the warrior's forearms got slashed by the hybrid's thet'je blades as he tried to physically block the strikes rather than use his swords at all. 

" _Rakk_ ," Adam grumbled. He wasn't sure who he was really angry with as he watched the Mojowolder's blood drop to the ground; himself or Star. The despondent look on the other alien's face bothered him the most. The hybrid hadn't expected this. He and Star had been equals less than ten months ago and right now it was like he was facing some raw, inexperienced cadet. "That's enough for today," he found himself saying, even though the morning wasn't over yet. The fact that Star didn't argue, heading back to the car without a word of protest, bothered him on a scale he'd never experienced before.

 

* * *

Rictor was shocked to see them return so soon. He looked at the tall redhead with concern. Shatterstar looked bloodied and roughed up. "Star?"

The alien walked past him, averting his eyes. "I need a shower," he muttered and went to the bathroom, slamming the door. 

 _"¿Qué coño pasa?"_ Ric asked as Adam walked into the hotel room and sat heavily down in the nearest chair. 

"Look Rictor, unless it's in the range of _'tengo_ _un condón'_ or _'hazme venire'_ , I don't know a whole lot of Spanish so you're going to have to be specific." 

"What the fuck happened?"

Adam raised his hands up in a frustrated manner and slapped them back down to his sides again. "I don't really know. We fought hand to hand and, aside from a few set-backs, he did really good. It wasn't until we got to the sword-play that he wimped out on me. He's like a totally different guy." 

Rictor sat across from him and tapped his fingers on the table for a few seconds. "Well, he kind of is-" 

"Yeah, he told me about Russell. Some of it anyway." 

Ric was a little surprised that Star would have told Adam about something so personal, but the Shi'ar half-breed had probably been demanding some sort of explanation. "Russell was bad news. He took over Star's mind for awhile. Somehow, he managed to change his powers." 

"Really? What could he do?" 

"Offensive jaunt. He made things disappear. Body parts mostly." 

"Kythri's bloody claws. Maybe it's for the best I couldn't get him angry.” 

"What? You tried?" 

"It was the only way I could think of to get him to fight! It didn't work very well. He's changed, _roosha_ , and not in a good way." 

"Yeah, I know," the Hispanic murmured, sparing a glance towards the closed bathroom door. He could hear water running and figured he was shielded from the alien's sharp hearing to whisper: "How bad off is he?" 

Taking the hint, the hybrid dropped his voice and said, "His eyesight is worse than he's been letting on. We made some progress there but, _rakk_ , his hands are a mess. He doesn't weigh much, but he still broke his wrist when he landed wrong. Broke some knuckles just from sparring. And using his swords-" The blond shook his head in dismay. "That was a disaster." 

"Well, they're not his original weapons-" 

"That shouldn't matter. He's a skilled swordsman. He should be able to handle anything he's given. It's his mindset that's changed the most, Rictor. He's not the same person anymore. If he were anybody else I'd call him a pussy." 

Julio's face flushed in anger. "You insensitive asshole!" 

"I said _'anybody else'._ Like _you_. I know he's been through a lot-" 

"You don't know jack shit as usual. He had his eyes gouged out. He was stabbed over forty times. Got cut to pieces by chainsaws _and_ he blew off both his hands. He died. Do you _comprende_? He fucking _died!_ Then he got hijacked by a crazy time-traveling bitch and was forced into a two-year healing stasis. When that was done, he got dumped right back to the here and now without any kind of explanation or guidance. It hasn't even been a week yet ... and you're wondering why he's fucked in the head?" 

To his credit, Adam had the decency to look a little sheepish. "Okay. Maybe I didn't have all the facts going into this thing." 

"Ya think?" 

"I tried too much, too soon. I get it. Tomorrow morning we'll work on the swordplay first, when his hands are at their best." 

"I'll go with you this time. He won't try to wimp out knowing I'm watching. He'll show-off. Or at least try to." 

Adam released a derisive snort. "Wow. Someone sure has an ego." 

"He thinks of himself as my bodyguard," Rictor said, trying to sidestep the real reason that would make Star maintain his composure with him present. 

"Aren't you, like, some sort of Alpha-class mutant or something?" 

"Yeah, but it's more of a defensive power meant for wide-spread damage. I'm not the close combat fighter that he is. I've got some training, but nowhere near his level of skill. These clashes with my relatives were right up his alley. He was actually enjoying himself until that shit in Manzanillo. He needs to jump back on the horse. Even I know that." Rictor eyed the blond closely, noting the bruises that marked his arms and face. "You're really gonna have your hands full, Adam." 

He was surprised to see a smile cross the hybrid's face. " _Sha!_ I live for a good challenge. I'll whip him back into shape in no time. Just ... stay close and keep an eye on him tonight, all right?"

Ric frowned in confusion. "What makes you think I won't?" 

"I saw the state of you this morning," Adam said with his trademark smirk, getting back to his feet. "Hell, I can still see the hickey on your neck. I don't know what _puta_ would put up with your sorry ass, but maybe you can tone it down for a night and make sure Star gets some sleep instead of exiling him to _Jl'ia_ knows where so you can get your freak on. Leave the _hinas_ to real men like _me_." 

Managing to keep a straight face (barely), Rictor said from between stiff lips, "Duly noted. I think that's your cue to leave." 

Adam chuckled, figuring he had touched a nerve and reveling in it. He ambled over to the door. "Same time tomorrow." 

"Can't wait," Ric snapped and slammed the door closed the instant the half-breed was across the threshold. He could hear Adam's laughter out in the hall, fading as he went down the stairs. This time Julio said it out loud as he threw the locks; "Sleazy douche bag." 

Shatterstar was a long time in the bathroom. So long that, at one point, Rictor knocked lightly on the door and asked, "Hey amigo, you okay in there?" 

"Yes," came the terse response. 

"You want some company?" 

"No." 

It was spoken in that same, low unemotional way but it made gooseflesh rise along both of the Latino's arms. Because it was wrong. All of this was wrong and Ric didn't know what he could say or do to make the situation better. He retreated to the bedroom instead and sat down and faked watching the television as he kept his ears trained for any sounds of movement from the bathroom. It was two sitcoms later before Star emerged and went straight to his side of the room and began getting dressed. Rictor watched him closely, noting with some subdued sense of relief that he seemed to be using his hands without difficulty. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" 

"No," the warrior said again. When he pulled on a clean T-shirt, he turned to the window and did an unexpected thing; he pulled down the shade and backed uneasily away from it. His face was guarded and unhappy and afraid. Julio was stunned to see that latter emotion on his boyfriend's usually composed features. Until that moment he didn't even think Star knew what fear was, let alone feel it. 

"Talk to me, Gaveedra," he managed to say in a level voice. 

For a long moment he wasn't sure he was going to get any kind of response until Star said in a low voice, "They are out there. Your uncles’ men are out there hunting us and there's nothing I can do about it." He clasped his fists tightly and grimaced in pain from the act. "Nothing!" 

"We're safe here. We-" 

Star was violently shaking his head. His damp hair hanging in tendrils around his face, obscuring his features, probably deliberately. "We have _never_ been safe. At least before I had the skills to react to a threat so it never bothered me. But now ... I am helpless." He spared his partner a harried glance through the mask of red hair. "I don't know what to do." 

Julio wordlessly rose to his feet and went over to him, wrapping his arms around that firm, muscular body and feeling it quiver beneath his touch. It just about broke his heart. "You've got to stop thinking that you're my bodyguard or defender or something. We're equals. We'll get through this." 

"If I said I wanted to go to Muir Island ... you would not come with me, would you?" 

Rictor bit his lower lip. The fact that Star was actually willing to contemplate what had been held as an idle threat over him for the last three months brought home just how powerless he felt. How desperate. Julio shook his head and whispered, "No." 

Star's breath hitched in his throat. Rictor parted that protective curtain of red hair and saw the first of tears spill from those silver eyes an instant before the alien wrenched away from him and turned blindly to the wall. "You're going to die," Star said between ragged draws of breath. "Your uncles or Martinez are going to find you and there will be nothing I can do to stop them from killing you." 

"I'm not powerless! You saw what I did in the park!" Rictor shouted in dismay. "Damn it, Star! Stop shouldering the burden of thinking you have to always be the strong one here. You're injured. Let me step up and take care of you for a change. Don't you think I can do that?" 

"I know you are powerful, Julio ..." 

"Then what's the damn problem?" 

"Your uncles and associates are killers. They are crazy. I'm the only one of us who understands that mindset." 

Julio had never killed anyone in cold blood and they both knew that. It simply wasn't in his nature. All that the Latino could think of saying in the face of that logic was; "You're not crazy." 

Star dropped his head and said nothing. 

"You're not crazy!" Ric said again, grabbing the alien's shoulder and whipping him around. All he saw was a mask of tears and his voice softened as he soothed the errant strands of hair away from the warrior's face, scrubbing away the tear tracks with his thumbs. "You're hurt and you're scared. I think it's been a long time for you. Maybe even a first time, but you're not alone in this. Okay? I'm here. I'll make sure everything works out for the best." 

"You cannot make that promise," Star said miserably, his slight tremors had turned into visible shivers. 

Rictor held him again. "Yes, I can. And I'm gonna make damned sure it happens. You're just going to have to trust me on this." 

"I trust you with my life." Star buried his burning face into the other man's dark hair. As before, he muttered under his breath, so low that Ric barely caught it, "... such as it is." 

It eventually dawned on Julio that most of these wild personality swings he was seeing in his stressed lover were originating from severe exhaustion. Star hadn't been sleeping well since that disastrous operation in Limon (and Ric sincerely doubted that the two years in stasis had been particularly restful, either) so he ordered the alien to go to bed. It didn't give his mind any comfort to see that Star was far past the point of arguing, of _fighting_ , and meekly submitted to the demand without one word of protest. Still wearing his street clothes, he got under the covers and drew into a compact, miserable ball, only a short length of vibrant red hair visible from the vaguely human form hidden beneath the blanket. And ' _hidden_ ' was a perfect description of the act, at least to Julio's troubled eye. It looked like the alien was trying to disappear from sight. 

"Everything's gonna be all right," Ric said, but got no response. Maybe Star was already asleep, but he doubted it. He had a sneaking suspicion that the Mojoworlder's eyes were open beneath the blanket, staring blankly at nothing as his mind whirled helplessly over different, useless strategies like an animal caught in a trap. 

And he wasn't wrong. 

Shatterstar _was_ awake and he was actually in a state beyond exhausted. He was about at the end of his mental and physical endurance. He was thinking helplessly over and over about his conversation with Geraldo "The Silver Fox" as he had interrogated him. The information that he had gotten out of the Fox had been shocking and extensive. Julio’s uncles had had over a month to gather information on their wayward mutant nephew and his X-Force friends before they had even arrived, thanks to Julio's cell phone being taken by his uncle. By now, they knew just about everything they needed to know about him and Rictor (except, thankfully, their intimate relationship). 

Even as he dwelled on the loss of their advantage, Star knew that Julio’s words were true: He was in no shape to fight, but he was driven by a deeply embedded imperative to respond immediately to a threat. It had been his way of survival since the Spineless Ones had first unleashed him in his first arena tourney and it was impossible to ignore it now that their cover was blown. The wolves were loose and had their scent and the hunt was on. He didn’t take well to being prey at the best of times. But now, he was hobbled by what Spiral had done to him and didn't know if he would be able to shake it off before Julio's uncles rallied their forces and attacked. He was scared and vulnerable and deeply confused. Julio's presence was the only stabilizing force in his life right now. The only thing that mattered. 

It could have been minutes or hours, but he finally succumbed to his body's demands and fell into a sleep so deep and dream-free it was closer to unconsciousness. He had slept like that before, rare times as he lay on the precipice of life or death after a grand battle, and it was a state that he wasn't sure he really wanted to rouse from now. That was how far he had fallen in mind and spirit. 

When Rictor was shaking him, telling him it was morning, he just wanted to ignore that voice and burrow deeper into the bed. He pulled the blanket and sheets into a tighter ball around his body and tried to reach that dark place again. That place where there was no fear or pain. 

Not giving up, Ric grabbed the headboard and vibrated the entire bed with his power, making the legs thrum briefly on the floor. It was enough to cause Star to pull his head free of his cocoon and glower up at him. _"[Stop that. Leave me alone.]"_  

Julio shook the bed again. "X-Treme's gonna be here in about an hour. That's got to be about enough time for you to get your shit together." 

"Fekt X-Treme." 

"My sentiments exactly if you wanna know the truth. But seriously, do you want that asshole to see you like _this_? He'll think it's the funniest thing he ever saw!" 

Grudgingly, Star had to admit that Ric had a point. Adam would revel seeing him in this state and hold it over him every time they sparred, using it as bait to throw him off guard and draw him into conflict. He threw the covers aside and sat up, slowly gathering his thoughts. It eventually dawned on him that Rictor was freshly washed, shaved and dressed. It was a rare sight. Of the pair of them, it was Star who was the morning person. "Why are you up so early?" 

"I'm going with you and Adam to your training site today," Ric said and was relieved to see a spark of animation finally dawn in the alien's eyes, which had previously been just a dull slate-grey color. 

"...What? Why?" 

Ric had thought over this strategy while he had been getting ready this morning. "It's role reversal time. Remember our talk yesterday? I'm going to take care of you. By tagging along, I can make sure that Adam doesn't pick on you too much." 

Now that spark was becoming a raging bonfire in Star's eyes. Julio had to submerge the desire to grin and carefully maintained his facade of vague concern. 

After some sputtering, the alien finally managed to get out: "I don't need a babysitter!" 

"Not babysitter. _Protector_. I don't want him to hurt you." 

"As if he could," Shatterstar snarled into Rictor's face, jumping to his feet and stalking to the bathroom with his hands clenched into tight fists. 

This time, when the door slammed shut, Rictor broke out into a broad smile. He checked the clock on the night stand and then looked at the front door. He was thinking about Adam and how today's training was going to go. "Shouldn't have made fun of me about the _hinas_ , amigo," he muttered under his breath and settled down into the chair to wait for the other alien's arrival. 

While he waited, he picked up a copy of the local newspaper that had been slipped under the door and whistled tunelessly through his teeth while Star stomped and cursed around in the bathroom, working himself up into a frenzy. According to Ric's horoscope, _'Today was going to be a beautiful day.'_

Julio didn't doubt it for a second. 


	12. Three's a Crowd

Adam looked down in disbelief as the tip of the sword embedded itself into the ground right between his legs less than an inch from his crotch. He released a cry that was more of shock than anger and brought his thet'je spikes up just in time as the second sword sliced down; the alien metals colliding in a shower of sparks. 

“Do you yield?” Star was snarling down into his face. 

“Fuck you, _roosha_ ,” the alien said, kicking up and connecting squarely with the warrior’s stomach. It was enough to knock the Mojoworlder back and give Adam some space to scramble to his feet and get some distance between them. As he did so he cast Julio a desultory glare. “What the hell did you say to him _this_ time?” He asked in dismay. 

Lounging in the shade of Adam’s sedan, Ric lifted the brim of an old battered straw cowboy hat he had found god-knew-where and only offered the frustrated alien a roguish grin in reply. X-Treme might have had more to say on the issue but he was currently in the battle of his life and looked back barely in time to avoid a grey boot aimed for his face. 

He rolled to the side, came back up on the balls of his feet and threw two blades at the charging Mojoworlder. Shatterstar managed to spin away to avoid one, but the other left a red trail across his thigh. It was a shallow slice, but at this point Adam didn’t care. It accomplished the task. He activated his power and ignited the electrolytes in Star’s blood. With a snarl of pain, the alien went down. 

Rictor was on his feet in an instant. _“Oye cabron!_ We agreed no powers!” He instinctively clapped his hands together in that trademark gun shape and aimed his index fingers at the Shi’ar hybrid. In response, X-Treme hunkered down and pulled out several more blades, prepared to attack. 

Star broke the stalemate. “Stop! Both of you,” he rasped, getting to his feet. “I’m alright.” 

“It was just enough of a jolt to give me a breather. I wasn’t trying to flash fry him,” Adam said, relaxing his stance only once Ric unclasped his hands. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Star. “He brought up a good point, though. Your fighting and sword skills are back up to par, but you haven’t used your mutant power yet, have you?” 

The pair had been training together for the last nine days. Star recovered his fighting skills relatively quickly, but his hands were still an issue. It was Rictor who suggested he start using boxer’s tape to reinforce them. Foregoing his usual gloves, both of the warrior’s hands, wrists and forearms were now bound in layers of tape up to the elbow. It wasn’t pretty, but it had helped his grip strength to the point he could wield his swords with confidence again. The day before had ended with his and Adam’s spar resulting in a stalemate. Today, he had emerged the victor. That meant that their period of downtime would soon come to an end and it would be time to return to the field. Star wasn’t as excited by the prospect as much as he would have thought. He’d had the best of both worlds this last week: Combat by day, Julio by night. It made him finally appreciate the diversion humans called a vacation. 

As his silence stretched on, even Rictor had to concede that X-Treme brought up a good point. He had warmed up considerably to the alien over the last week and a half, but he would never completely like the guy. There was some unpleasant quality to Adam that was like chewing on tinfoil. Maybe it was the smell. Whenever he overexerted himself, the hybrid’s perspiration had a rank, acrid edge that resembled moth balls. Maybe it was his diet. Ric was prepared to steal from his lunch the other day and had discovered a sealed container full of mealworms. Live ones. Yeah, Adam was one weird amigo. 

“He’s right. You haven’t powered up since ...” Ric couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“Manzanillo,” Star murmured. During the aftermath of Jake Martinez’s torture and the agony of the mercenary’s men wielding their chainsaws, the warrior remembered the power release that had blown up both of his prior swords... and both hands. He hadn’t seen it happen; his eyes had been gouged out at that point, but he _had_ felt it. The pain had eclipsed every single thing he’d ever endured in his young life and that was saying a lot. “I know that I still possess the shockwave power. I started humming in Mr. Lopez’s office when I thought he was going to cage us.” 

“Yeah, but your swords were zipped up in your duffle bag.” Ric said, frowning. 

“I wasn’t holding them. That’s right.” He swallowed and took a deep breath, looking down at his taped hands which were each gripping the hilt of a sword. If X-Treme hadn’t been standing there watching him, Star might have stalled and asked for some persuasion from Julio. His sense of pride came back with a vengeance and he whirled on his heel and aimed the sword blades at the nearest tree. Forcing the thoughts of what had happened at the warehouse out of his mind, he began humming, powering up. 

Rictor was privately fretting almost as badly as his partner. He remembered those terrible blackened stumps at the end of Star’s wrists. Hell, he was _still_ having nightmares over the whole ordeal. “You don’t have to be a show-off about it. Just a small bolt’ll be fine. Okay?” 

“Screw that,” Adam countered, crossing his arms. “Light that sucker up.” 

The Mexican slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up _pendejo_! You don’t know what you’re talking about! _As usual_.” 

Adam unsheathed a thet’je spike and held it under his nose. “Y’know, I preferred it when you stayed back at the motel.” 

Ric didn’t back down an inch. “Somebody has to be here and play referee. Especially when dealing with a cheating dick like you. What you did before was a cheap shot and you know it!” 

“I didn’t rakking hurt him! _Feesh!_ What the hell is it with the two of you?” 

X-Treme was still out of the loop about the nature of Star and Ric’s clandestine relationship. Distracted by the sudden shift in conversation, Star glanced over at them just as he reached the pinnacle of his power-up, not seeing the tips of his swords cross over one another. A brilliant white flash suddenly exploded from them, knocking him off his feet. When he looked up, he was stunned to see the tree was gone. 

Rictor whirled around in shock. “Holy shit!” 

X-Treme whooped and hauled the dazed warrior back to his feet. “Way to go! You obliterated that thing to atoms!” 

Star looked down at his swords, to the depression where the tree had been, and then at Julio. 

Ric clearly saw the confusion in the alien’s light blue eyes. “How do you feel?” 

“Fine.” Star saw the doubt reflected back in his friend’s face. “Seriously, I’m alright. There’s no trace of my usual exhaustion or weakness. I think the Time Dancer must have somehow repaired that defect.” He walked over to where the tree had been to investigate the site more closely. 

“Well, can’t knock her handiwork,” Adam said with a broad grin. “Let’s see... Ass kicking skills back on track; check. Sword skills as deadly as ever; check. Mutant power working; check. I dunno about the two of you, but I think all this calls for a celebration.” 

Ric eyed him dubiously. “I’m almost scared to ask how someone like _you_ celebrates.” 

“Alcohol and pussy.” Adam shot back with a smirk. “Best two things this sorry-ass planet has to offer. Let’s say we go to a bar and celebrate our last night of freedom before we’re sent back into the DEA meat grinder, _chayeh_?” 

“ _You’re_ DEA. Star and I are ATF. Besides, the two of us have to stay hidden, remember?” 

“This is a joint effort between both our sponsor agencies and I doubt that a single night at some back-alley dive is going to jeopardize your identity.” Shaking his head, Adam stared at the smaller man in amazement. “You two have been cooped up in that roach motel together for almost two weeks. I’m amazed you haven’t killed each other yet.” 

A strange expression crossed Ric’s face before it went back to sheer stubbornness. “We can’t go out. Miguel’s orders.” 

“Lopez turned the responsibility of keeping you two safe over to me. I’m ordering you guys to take a break. You might’ve managed to sneak out and score some Latino pussy lately, but my buddy could use a break from having to put up with your 24-7 bullshit.” He cocked his thumb over his shoulder in Star’s direction. 

Hot blood began to fill Ric’s face. “He isn’t interested in shit like that.” 

“Oh yeah?” Adam turned to where the warrior was still examining the results of his power release and shouted: “Hey Shatterstar! You wanna go out and party?” 

“Sure. Whatever.” Star said, adding an absent wave; words and a gesture he had picked up from his association with Julio. It was clear he wasn’t paying X-Treme any attention but the blond took it as a victory and flashed Ric a gloating “sucker” look and began grabbing his gear. “Let’s get going. I have stuff I need to buy.” 

“Deodorant?” Ric drawled. 

Refusing to be baited, Adam just said, “Condoms,” and strutted back to his car. 

Oblivious of the exchange, Star hunkered down beside the crater where the tree had been and scratched through some dirt, sniffing it. There was no trace of carbon or ash that his enhanced senses could detect; the usual result of a shockwave blast. The trunk had been cleanly severed at ground-level as if by a saw and was oozing fresh sap. The indentation around the base was perfectly circular and the rest of the ground was undisturbed. It didn’t look like the tree had been blasted apart on a molecular level. That spoke of power that only an Omega-class mutant possessed. No, it looked like the tree had been … been- 

 _Jaunted,_ whispered a voice in his head. It wasn’t a word or voice he recognized. He was still puzzling over it when he noticed Ric walking over to him. “Look at this. Does it remind you of anything that-“ 

 _“[What the hell do you think you’re doing?]”_ The Mexican hissed in Cadre. Before Star even had a chance to respond, the smaller man continued; _“[Neramani wants to take you out to get plastered and laid. Why did you agree to that?]_ ” 

_“[I wasn’t paying him much attention to be honest. Is that really what he wants me to do?]”_

_“[He thinks so, yeah.]”_

_“[And you are worried I will become intoxicated and engage in relations with someone other than you?]”_  

Ric opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly, staring back at him. Sometimes, when the alien spoke so frankly, it acted like a slap across the face. He scratched one stubbly cheek. _“[... No, I-I guess not-]”_  

 _“[You_ guess? _]”_ Now it was the Mojoworlder who was frowning. 

 _“[I know you won’t. Okay? I remember how alcohol doesn’t really agree with you.]”_  

“Fekt. _[Don’t remind me.]”_ Shatterstar had endured that rite of teenage passage and suffered the humiliating after-effects brought on by excessive binge-drinking. It wasn’t an act he cared to repeat. _“[And I am not interested in getting laid up with some stranger, either. I thought we had soothed over your concerns on this matter, Julio.]”_  

 _“[Old habits die hard.]”_ Ric admitted. 

Star sighed and was about to say more when Adam shouted from the driver’s side window: “Will you two assholes get a move on? I haven’t got all day! _Feesh!”_  

 _“[He can be annoying,]”_ Star murmured under his breath, returning to collect his gear. 

 _“[You’re just starting to figure that out?]”_ Ric rolled his eyes. _“[And people say I’m slow on the uptake.]_ ” 

Shatterstar released a wry snort of amusement. 

Adam narrowed his eyes when the pair finally approached. “What were you two talking about?” 

“None of your business,” the Mexican said, putting their bags in the trunk and slamming it shut. “What’s it to you anyway?” 

“It’s just weird how whenever you’re together you chatter away in that weird alien pig Latin-“ 

“It’s called Cadre and it makes more sense to me than the Shi’ar you occasionally regress to using when you’re angry,” Star said, settling into the passenger side. “I have a keen ear for dialects, but that one is largely incomprehensible to me.” 

“It sounds that way to you because I have a syrinx,” Adam said aloofly, starting the car. 

“Wait a minute.” Ric stuck his head into the gap between the front seats. “When were you ever in Egypt?” 

“I said syrinx. Not Sphinx! _Feesh!_ ” the hybrid barked. “Shi’ar evolved from birds. You get it? It’s an evolutionary leftover, like the feathers the pure-breeds display. Same with the way we talk. We don’t have a larynx like the rest of you earthlings or ...” He gestured vaguely in Star’s direction. “Whatever _you_ are.” 

“Huh,” Ric said, leaning back into his seat and crossing his arms behind his head. “So that’s why you always sound like your balls haven’t dropped yet.” 

Glaring hard into the rear-view mirror, Adam was met with a wide, taunting grin from the occupant in the back. He gave Julio the finger and settled into moody silence on the drive back into the city. Ric lounged in the back, occasionally snickering, while Star watched the passing view and tried to puzzle out the incident with the tree. The word ‘jaunt’ kept popping up in his mind and it seemed to be a key that opened doors to other things, filling his head with odd whispers. He was quiet during much of the trip, even when Adam made a few stops and bought them some items for their night out. He didn’t start coming around until he and Rictor were dropped off in front of their motel. 

“I’ll pick you guys up around ten,” Adam said. 

“There’s no way Miguel is going to go for this,” Julio persisted. “Are you even going to tell him?” 

“I might drop by the office to talk about Star’s progress. Maybe I’ll mention what we’re going to do tonight. Maybe I won’t. I’m not sure yet. Don’t you go and be a rat behind my back, Rictor. You hear me?” 

Ric took off his hat and clutched it to the front of his shirt. He laid on the accent particularly thick to say: “Oye, si senior. You’re de beeg bad mano running dees show. I ahm jus’ some poor leettle wetback who doesn’t know hees place. Ay ay ay.” He dropped the act and sneered. “Fuck off, why don’t you?” 

“Smartest thing I’ve heard from you all day.” Adam shot back and pulled away from the curb with a squeal of burnt rubber. 

“Douche bag.” Ric muttered under his breath. He glanced at his tall partner and shrugged. “Look, I’ve tried. I’m just never gonna warm up to that guy. I’m sorry, okay?” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Star said as they entered the building and started up the stairs. “Adam isn’t easy to get along with. I think his gregarious actions hide hidden insecurities. He has yet to find a place to fit in. Or a person to trust and confide in.” 

“Huh. That sounds like another alien I know,” Ric said and then added in a low-whisper, “And love.” 

Betraying a flattered smile, Star wrapped one muscular arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulled him close to his side. He was leaning in for a kiss when Ric shoved him away and twisted around, looking frantically up and down the stairwell for witnesses. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment when he turned back to Star. “What’d I tell you about doing that shit in public?” He hissed. 

“You just said-“ 

“Just because I told you that, it doesn’t mean you have to act on it.” 

The confusion was plain on Star’s face. “But we’re in our hotel.” 

“We’re not in our hotel _room!_ ” 

The baffled expression on the alien’s face lasted for one quick blink before it tightened up and became guarded and angry. His left eye flashed; something Julio had only ever seen happen in combat. Without another word, Star charged up the rest of the stairs and then kicked open the door to their room, shattering the locks to pieces. 

 _“Star?!_ What the fuck-?!” Julio hollered. He tried to close the door but Star had actually bent the hinges so badly that it leaned against the entrance at a warped angle. “Great. That’s just great! How’m I gonna explain this to Neramani?” 

“Tell him the truth,” Star said, shedding his gear with angry shrugs. He favored Julio with a hostile glare. “You pissed me off,” he said and went into the bathroom, locking the door. 

“Fuck!” Ric shouted again.

 

* * *

 

 

Adam wasn’t in much better spirits. After he’d dropped off the pair, he went to his hotel room and luxuriated in a well-deserved bath. When he was finished, he stood nude in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom and slowly turned around, tallying up his injuries of the day. He wasn’t fortunate to have a healing factor like Shatterstar’s and the scratches and bruises on his body were beginning to accumulate. As much as he enjoyed a good spar, he was actually a little relieved that the warrior had come around so quickly. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to maintain this pace for much longer. 

“Nothing some rum and tail can’t soothe over,” he muttered, fingering a bruise on his collar bone. He winced a little, but not from any pain. It was how high-pitched his voice sounded. He hadn’t realized it was so noticeable until Rictor had made his little jab from the backseat. Adam thought he had learned to deepen his voice so that it sounded normal to the Earthlings. It was just about the only thing that he was deeply self-conscious about and damned if that little shit hadn’t hit the hammer on the nail. Next to Julio’s smooth Latin accent and Star’s bass Mojoworlder rumble, Adam sounded like an eight year-old boy. 

“Rakk!” He shouted. When he realized how that came out he cleared his throat and tried again in a lower pitch. “Rakk!” It took four more attempts before he was even remotely satisfied with the results, although it hurt to talk like that for very long. 

As a diversion, he wrote up a thorough report of the day’s training on his laptop and edited it thoroughly. Despite his bad attitude, he took his present job seriously, even if it wasn’t something he would have voluntarily applied for. His background was military so following the chain of command came naturally. So was behaving professional when it was required. He privately mused he could have made the transition to acting quite easily. 

Only once he was completely convinced what he had written was complete did he send it off to Miguel Lopez’s ATF-encrypted email account and delete it from his own hard drive. There was to be no paper trail regarding Operation Chessboard so that off-the-grid players like himself, Star and Rictor could act with impunity. Adam was okay with that so long as he got paid. He had also managed to pick up a few things that went beyond the scope of his own personal arrangement with the DEA. He was no idiot. Once this whole operation was over, he knew he would be kicked back to the curb with little more than a handshake for his services. He had no intention of going back to fending for himself without something substantial to fall back on. In his case, his ‘pension’ was a trunkful of American cash buried in the basement of an abandoned church in Chetumal. He’d found it while investigating a gang of cocaine dealers in the city and quickly made off with it before giving his DEA back-up the call to swoop in and make arrests. 

Adam was an individual who believed in saving for a rainy day. 

Staring idly at the laptop, he started getting anxious and decided a follow-up trip into the ATF office might probably be a good idea. Adam didn’t completely trust Rictor enough to believe he wouldn’t go mouthing off to Miguel about their late night diversion. Honestly, the Shi’ar hybrid was baffled why Shatterstar put up with that asshole, let alone consider him a best friend. Incriminating family connections aside, Julio was immature, sarcastic, and an all-around pain in the ass. There was good reason why Earthers used the expression “three’s a crowd” and if there was some way – _any_ way- that Adam could safely cut him out of the equation to be paired up with Star for the duration, he’d do it without hesitation. Adam was also a person who didn’t like obstacles in his way. 

Julio was more than an obstacle; he was a potential hindrance. He wasn’t a killer trained in subterfuge and his powers didn’t involve restraint the way that a carefully aimed throwing spike or sword could strike. It wasn’t silent, it wasn’t stealthy. It was just ...destruction. What the _rakk_ good was something like _that_? 

“I’ll figure something out,” he muttered, wincing how it came out and repeated it again, forcing his voice deeper. Doing that made him hate Rictor just a little bit more. 

He appeared at the department an hour before it closed. Lopez’s office was locked up and dark. “Miguel’s already gone for the day?” 

Antonio Rossini looked up from his computer and eyed the blond curiously. “Something wrong with your throat?” 

“No,” Adam said defensively. “Why?” 

“Just sounds different, is all. You getting a cold?” 

“I don’t get colds. I got punched in the neck during training today. That might have something to do with it.” He tried to pass the lie off with a deflective shrug. 

The ATF agent betrayed a slight smile. “Hnh. So the sword-swallower got in a few good licks, did he?” 

“Something like that. Now, back to my original question-“ 

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony went back to his paperwork. “I managed to convince Miguel to take the day off. He’s got about four weeks of vacation time stored up, not to mention personal days in the bank. The guy’s a fuckin’ workaholic-“ 

While the Mexican prattled on, Adam just felt a smug sense of relief. If he couldn’t get to the agent then neither could Rictor. It looked like the evening’s agenda (whatever the hell it turned out to be) was a definite ‘go’. He was still working out the details in his mind when Tony brought him back to reality with: 

“-and you can expect a hefty bill from the hotel for new locks and a door to their room.” 

Adam blinked and frowned down at him. “What’re you talking about?” 

“Big Red kicked it in after you dropped them off this afternoon.” 

“Why’d he go and do a stupid thing like that?” The last time he had seen Star, the warrior had looked relaxed. “They forget their damn key or something?” 

“Naw. Didn’t catch what started it, but they’ve been stuck in another one of their lovers quarrels ever since. Christ, and I thought my wife and I argued.” He glanced at his watch and then leaned back in his seat and shouted: “Felicia! They still going at it?” 

A few seconds later, the female ATF agent opened a side door and poked her head out. She had a pair of headphones hanging around her neck. “Yeah.” 

At her crestfallen expression, Tony barked out bitter laughter. “Sounds like you’re going to lose your bet this time.” 

The chubby woman’s face flushed. “The day’s not over yet,” she pouted and disappeared back inside, slamming the door. 

Still laughing, the agent turned back to Adam who had watched the exchange in complete confusion. “We have a bet about the fighting. I think they do it because they’re genuinely dysfunctional. Felicia thinks they do it just for the make-up sex.” 

Ever since he’d arrived, there had been innuendos peppered in Rossini’s responses that the alien hadn’t picked up on. Like Shatterstar, he often had some problems with earth slang, mainly because it changed so frequently. Right now, however, there was absolutely no confusion in what the human had said. Completely losing his grip on his voice, Adam squeaked out: “For the _what-?!”_

 

* * *

 

“Oh, for crissakes I said I’m sorry.” Rictor pouted from where he was sitting on the bed, fake-watching the television just for something to help pass the time until Adam showed up. He and Star had been arguing back and forth ever since the alien had stepped out of the bathroom. The majority of it was a rehash of the same old shit: Julio’s deeply closeted fear of his sexual identity being found out by- well, by anyone who _wasn’t_ Star. The Mojoworlder was sick of the strain it was putting on their relationship and he was absolutely in the right to feel that way. Eventually, even Ric realized that much. He had been apologizing on and off for the last hour but the warrior wasn’t ready to let the matter go. At the moment, he was leaning by the window, listening to his iPod and watching the traffic. 

“I know you can hear me,” Ric huffed. “Where did you get that damned thing anyway? I broke yours.” 

“I remember,” the alien grumbled. “Adam bought me a new one.” 

Hearing that didn’t help the Mexican’s mood, but at least the alien was speaking to him again so Ric had to take what he could. “That was, uhm, nice of him. I guess. So I- well ... what’re you listening to?” 

“Nickelback.” 

That ended the brief moment of civility between them. Ric slapped his hands to his face and fell backwards on the bed, yelling out: “ _Mierda sea!_ I can’t believe you’re listening to that bunch of pussies. Those sell-outs produce the most repetitive shit in the world! You used to be a head-banger with class, dude.” 

“I quite happen to like their music,” Star lied and fell into aloof silence again while Rictor continued bitching about the group. At any other time, the alien would have been in agreement with him over the playlist, which was a copy of Adam’s music folder. The Shi’ar hybrid favored soft rock and long ballads and they were far too slow to the Mojoworlder’s tastes. Star liked thrash metal and hard-core rap just as much as Julio did, but right now he was going out of his way to antagonize his friend. He didn’t know why he was doing it, but it felt right. Correction: It felt right to a part of his personality that seemed to have awakened ever since he had used his mutant power. Unknown to Rictor, Star had been fighting _two_ people since their return from training; one verbally and one in his head. 

 _It_ is _shit music,_ Benjamin Russell said, weighing in on the subject. _Not gonna tell_ him _that though._  

 _I’m not listening to you. You’re not real,_ Star shot back. He rubbed his temple and then made it look like he was smoothening down his hair when he noticed Ric looking at him. The stress and worry was beginning to give him a headache. _Go back to where you belong._

 _Thanks to your psycho six-armed savior, I’m right where I’m supposed to be,_ Russell said. It sounded like he was smiling. _I had me a nice long nap but you woke me up today. Thanks buddy!_

“-when I heard ‘Burn It to the Ground’ I thought, maybe, there was hope for them. Then they released that shit single-“ Julio was muttering out loud.

 _I am not your buddy. This is my head._ My mind. _And I will be free of you this instant!_

Ben snorted. _If I wasn’t meant to be here, Spiral-_

_D’ha!_

_Oh, fer fuck’s sake, we’re having this conversation in your head, dumbnuts. I can say the name all I want. Spiral. See? It’s not like she can hear me._

_Stop that! Stop it right now!_  

“-and that Kroeger guy? The lead singer? Listening to him makes me want to off myself all over again. Seriously, you better watch out or that guy’s gonna get you, too-“ 

_Spiral. Ooooh Spy-Rhaaaal. Where are ya, you crazy bitch?_

_By Za’s Vid, I swear-!!_  

“-and the drum beats always sound the same, not to mention they only seem to know three goddamn guitar chords-“ 

_Spiralspiralspiralspiralsp-_

**“I swear to the Godhead that if you don’t shut up I’m going to fekting kill you!”** Star thundered at the top of his lungs. 

Rictor almost fell off of the bed in shock. He looked at the warrior with actual fear in his dark brown eyes. It was the first time he had felt anything like it since- Well, fuck, he had never been as scared of Star as he was this very instant. “S-sure, Gaveedra. I... shit, I already said it but, I-I’m sorry.” 

Like a man coming out of a spell, Star blinked at him. “...What?” 

“I’ll keep my mouth shut like you said,” Julio said in a small voice. “I really didn’t mean to-“ 

Star ripped out the earbuds and threw the mp3 player on his bed. He turned back to the window. “I wasn’t talking to you.” In another breath, he muttered, “It is _not_ funny. Stop laughing!” 

“What’s going on?” Ric tentatively came up beside him. “Who are you talking to?” 

The side of Star’s mouth twitched and he blinked hard. He crossed his arms and finally growled out, “Russell.” 

Rictor felt like his entire body was doused in ice cold water. “...Ben Russell?!” 

“For some reason using my mutant power woke his consciousness. Before, he was just disconnected memories and random impulses. Now it’s like listening to a manic telepath who won’t shut up. He just keeps-” Star cocked his head to the side and his eyes narrowed as he became engaged in some sort of silent inner debate. He began growing more visibly upset and distracted the longer the lapse continued. Watching it filled Julio with instant recognition and dread. 

“No. No way, man. Uh-uh. You can’t go through that again. I’ll try and get in contact with Cable-“ 

“There’s nothing he can do. This is not the result of the Gamesmaster.” 

“Oh, I know who it’s the result of. It’s all Sp-“ 

Star rounded on him. “Do _not_ say her name!” 

“She fucked up!” Ric shouted back. “She did this to you. She has to fix it!” 

“And suppose Mojo has regained control of her if I speak her name as a summons? She would take me back to Mojoworld. I’d be reduced to being a plaything of the Spineless Ones all over again. Probably worse.” He gave his head a sharp shake. “I will not go back to that hell. I would rather-“ 

Ric grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it as hard as he could. “Don’t you say it. Don’t even _think_ it, you hear me? I helped you through this shit before. I can do it again. I promise!” 

Star appeared startled by the conviction he heard in his friend’s voice. Rictor had absolute confidence that he could help with the duplicity that was pulling the Mojoworlder apart at the seams. His anger was dissipated a little by the sincerity he saw in his lover’s face. He offered Ric a bewildered look. “Why can’t you act this brave when dealing with our relationship?” 

And just like that they were brought back to the incident in the stairwell. Ric wrenched his hand away and whirled around. “Oh, would you just give it a fucking rest already? I over-reacted before. I told you that. I even apologized for it. I swear; you’re like a dog with a friggin’ bone. Let it go!” 

It was fortunate that Star caught a glint of headlights slowing down outside of their hotel. “Adam’s here.” Even on his best days, the mere topic of dogs was a sore spot for him. Being compared to one was guaranteed to push his buttons and Ric had made the slip at quite possibly the worst possible moment on record. 

“We’re not going out. Not with Russell rattling around inside your head. I’ll go down and tell Neramani what’s going on. You stay put right here. Got that? Stay!” Ric was heading out the door before his partner could even manage a retort. 

In his absence, Star heard Russell clearly: _Hey Clifford._ _You gonna keep on letting ol' Pedro call the shots?_  

“Not this time,” the alien growled under his breath.

* * *

 


	13. Blindsided

 

Rictor ran down the stairs in a hurry; practically leaping to the bottom landing and spooking the woman behind the check-in desk. He babbled a quick apology as he burst out the front door. His mind was on other matters; Star’s anger at him, Ben Russell’s return, Adam’s desire to go night-clubbing, which was the absolute _last_ thing Star needed to deal with right now. Ric was trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t make him sound like a paranoid schizophrenic when he suddenly skidded to a stop on the sidewalk, staring at the curb.  

Adam’s car wasn’t there. 

It was possible that Shatterstar could have confused the vehicle for someone else’s, although he had uncanny hearing and seemed able to recognize cars even before he saw them by the sound of their motors. “No two are alike,” he had said once. 

“Like snowflakes,” Rictor remarked. 

As usual, Star hadn’t understood the reference. 

Confused, Ric looked up at their hotel room. They were located on the third floor and damned if the bedroom window wasn’t propped wide open. He knew that it had been closed when he’d left to keep in the chill from the air conditioner. He raced back upstairs and found their room empty. “Oh, fuck me,” he cursed, putting two and two together. 

 

* * *

The second that Julio stepped out of the door, Star pulled open the window and easily jumped down to the sidewalk. He was opening the passenger side door of Adam’s sedan even before the Shi’ar had a chance to turn off the engine. “Drive,” he barked. 

Not one to question his good fortune, Adam immediately peeled away from the curb with a smirk. They were down the street and already blended in with the traffic by the time Rictor burst out of the hotel’s front entrance. Adam saw that happen from his rear view mirror and his smile widened. “Care to fill me in on what’s going on?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. 

“No.” 

“Ooookay.” 

They drove in silence for maybe a minute before Adam’s cell phone started ringing. The alien saw without surprise that it was Rictor and ignored it, letting it go to voicemail. He turned on the stereo, blaring Nickelback, and Star shut it off with an angry twist of the knob, almost ripping it out of the dash. 

“Star...“ Adam started in a warning tone. 

“Where are you taking me?” The redhead interrupted, staring straight ahead. A muscle was jumping in the corner of his defined jaw. 

“Some place where you really need to calm down.” The blond replied. “I heard about the hotel room door. What the _rakk_ happened back there?” 

Star turned his head and looked at him for the first time since he had gotten into the vehicle. “I don’t want to talk about it. That alright with you?” 

There was something dangerous in the Mojoworlder’s face that set off Adam’s deeply honed sense of self-preservation, but he made the first mistake of the night by ignoring it. As far as he knew at that point, he and Star had history and were allies. Most importantly, they were friends. He had absolutely nothing to worry about. “We had a good spar today,” he said, changing the subject. “You’re right back on top of your game, _chayeh_? Let’s just focus on that and have ourselves a good time tonight.” 

The tension eased a bit from the warrior’s broad shoulders. “That would be a good idea, I think,” he said slowly. 

Adam’s phone was ringing again. Surprise, surprise, it was Rictor. “So do I,” Adam said, deliberately shutting off his cell. “Trust me, I’ll make sure to pick a place that’ll, well, set you _straight_.” He passed Star a sly wink, as if conveying some sort secret message. 

The Mojoworlder didn’t notice it. “Whatever you choose will be fine,” he muttered and went back to the conversation inside of his head while Adam drove them to his destination, oblivious of the danger. 

 

* * *

“Oh, you miserable son-of-a-bitch,” Julio swore when Adam’s phone went straight to voicemail. “Listen to me, you asshole. There’s something wrong with Star. You hear me? As much as I hate you right now, I don’t wanna see you get hurt. Bring him the fuck back!” 

He heard what sounded like a shoe being thumped against the ceiling of the unit beneath him and frowned until he looked around and saw all the furniture was shaking. He hadn’t even been aware that he was projecting pent-up seismic energy to his surroundings. He reined in that power in a hurry, thinking about the state park he’d single-handedly destroyed almost four months ago. The thought he might have to use that devastating power against Ben Russell again wasn’t far from that memory. It had broken bones, bruised internal organs, and created hairline fractures throughout Star’s hollow skeleton the last time they’d clashed. He didn’t want a repeat of that terrible day. 

He grabbed his straw hat (reasoning it was as close to an undercover disguise he would ever wear because there was no way he would have been seen dead wearing one normally) and headed back outside, quickly hailing a taxi. 

“Where to?” The driver asked when he settled into the back seat. 

Ric thought about it for a minute then said, “Some back alley hole-in-the wall with watered-down booze and women with _extremely_ low standards.” 

Unfortunately for him, there were quite a few of bars of that particular caliber. 

 

* * *

The fact that Adam settled on a place called ‘The Titty Twister’ should have been the first clue to Star about how this night was going to turn out. He had been to some rather raucous establishments in New York when he had gone bar-hopping with Rictor, but none of those nightclubs even remotely compared to what he was seeing right now. 

“Well? What do you think?” Adam said when they walked through the entrance. 

There were topless women dancing on top of some of the tables. A live band was playing in the corner, filling the crowded bar with screaming vocals and wailing guitars. The air was hazy from cigarette smoke, incense, and pot. People in all manners of undress were either dancing or milling around. In one corner, a couple was dry-humping to the beat of the music. 

Two young women walked by and gave the pair a long, measuring glance. They smiled, obviously liking what they saw, and took their time heading over to the bar, flashing demure glances over their tanned shoulders. 

Adam noticed the invitation and dragged Star along after them. The Mojoworlder was still staring wonderingly up at one of the dancers on the nearest table. At his gaze, she cupped one bare breast and gave the pert nipple a lick, her tongue leaving a wet trail along the puckered flesh. 

“Za’s Vid,” he murmured in an unsteady voice. 

“I know, right?” Adam was beaming from ear to ear. “This is one of my favorite places to go. Always a guaranteed score.” 

“Score?” That finally pulled his attention away from the dancer. “Are we engaged in some kind of sport?” 

“The best kind,” the Shi’ar told him. “One where the prize is a sexy hot chica with her legs wrapped around your waist. Or head, depending on how you like it. I don’t care for that myself.” 

Star puzzled it out. “Are you referring to cunnilingus?” 

Adam burst out laughing. “You have _got_ to stop talking like you learned English from a dictionary. Yeah, I’m talking about eating pussy. It’s not my favorite thing but sometimes you have to give a little to get what you really want.” 

“I didn’t mind it.” 

By now they were at the bar next to where the young women were standing. Adam suddenly stopped in mid-flirt to round on Star. “Hold up! I was talking about being with a woman.” 

Perplexed, Star confirmed, “So was I. My former team-mate Feral. She–“ His silver-blue eyes skittered to the side as if listening to something and he continued with; “We _hooked up_ for an afternoon. It was excellent.” 

Adam blinked at him in amazement. “No shit. I thought you were-” 

“You thought I was what?” 

He cleared his throat. “... Married,” he managed to get out. 

“I told you that was an arrangement with no emotional ties. Besides, Windsong’s probably dead. Whatever the case, I’m not going to ignore the pleasures this world has to offer because of it.” 

That brought back Adam’s smile. “That’s a relief to hear.” He turned his head. “Hello ladies. Can my band mate and I buy you two beauties a drink?” 

The brunette swallowed the hook. Her eyes widened. “You’re in a band?” 

“You think we’d look like this normally?” Adam gestured to the tattoos around his eyes and to Star’s face. With their looks, build, and long hair it actually wasn’t that far of a stretch to believe. It was a pick-up line Adam had discovered shortly after landing on this world that worked very well to his advantage. “I’m Adam, the lead singer. My friend Gav here plays the drums.” Star opened his mouth to object and the soldier popped him lightly in the stomach with an elbow. “He doesn’t talk much.” 

Star obediently closed his mouth. He stared at the other woman who had her hair dyed bright green. The color fascinated him. He was subtly nudged from the other side and found himself looking down at a blond who started running her fingernails up and down his bicep. The teasing contact seemed to go straight down to his groin. “Za’s Vid,” he said again. It came out as a croak. 

 _Fuckin buncha sluts_ , Ben Russell grumbled in the back of his mind. _Better thank that healing factor of yours now. You’ll prolly catch the clap the second ya touch the bar._  

Star didn’t hear most of that commentary. The sound of the club drowned out much of what that embedded consciousness had to say. His growing anxiety smothered the rest. 

“Hello handsome. Want to dance?” The blond batted her eyes at him. She smelled of perfume and, judging by his heightened sense of smell, had recently had sex. He could smell the sour odor of semen on her breath. It reminded him of that miserable Stecky woman and he backed away from her, grimacing. “No. Get away from me.” 

“Fuck you!” She screamed into his face. She would have kneed him in the crotch if his left hand hadn’t flashed down to block her leg. He automatically raised his right arm and Adam whirled around and grabbed it a second before the scene turned into a disaster. 

“You heard him. Get lost.” Adam told her, struggling to contain the Mojoworlder. 

“But he-!“ 

“I mean it. Go fuck somebody else.” He sneered until she stamped off in a huff. Then he turned to the redhead. “And _you_ need to calm down. Right now.” 

“She just tried to hit me!” 

“She’s still human. You can’t hit her back just because you want to. This isn’t the Hunger Games.” 

“Slaughter Games!” 

“Whatever.” 

Star wrenched his arm free and glowered at the packed club. “This was a mistake. Take me back to my hotel.” 

“Not gonna happen.” Adam waved over the bartender. 

“Take me back!” He roared. Above the cacophony of the band and revelers, nobody even spared him a glance. 

Adam slowly turned his head around to stare at him. His slanted eyes were hard glints of steel. “Why? You seriously miss your boyfriend that much?” 

Star, his lips a rigid straight line, glared back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Cut the bullshit. I know you and Rictor are fucking. I found out today.” Adam looked him up and down. “And I have to admit, I find it _really_ hard to believe that you’re the type who likes it up the ass.” 

Star blinked once in astonishment before taking the predictable swing. Prepared for it, Adam caught that fist and used it to lever the arm behind Star’s back, slamming him down over the bar. “Don’t you dare try that again,” he snarled into the other man’s ear. “We’re going to stay right here, have a drink or four, and have ourselves a nice long talk without your obnoxious little fuck buddy getting in the way of it. _Chayeh?_ ” 

His left eye blazing with fury, Star almost used his superior strength to get free of the hold, but ... then what? It was inevitable that this would have become a topic of conversation sooner or later. At several points during their daily spars, he had almost betrayed the secret that Rictor had cautioned him to keep hidden. Adam had blindsided him with his knowledge, yes, but now the situation was out of his hands. Star didn’t want to lose the friendship he had with the other alien. He had learned that friends were a precious commodity on this world and he didn’t have many. He would have to see this through to its conclusion; for good or ill. 

 _“_ Codlista,” he grumbled and Adam released him. Looking around, Star realized that their little dustup had barely attracted any attention. Everyone was partying around them without a care in the world. 

“Nobody’ll bother us here. That’s why I decided this place was best.” Adam said, reading the surprise on the Mojoworlder’s face. “I saw two guys get into a knife fight out on the dance floor not too long ago. The only thing the bouncers did was haul the loser out back.” 

“He was dead?” 

The Shi’ar shrugged and finally ordered their drinks. They were no sooner settled in a far corner table away from the majority of the crowd when Adam asked bluntly, “It was Rictor who told you not to tell me about the two of you, wasn’t it?” 

Averting his eyes, Star took a sip of the drink Adam bought. He preferred beverages that were sickeningly sweet and found this particular one very bitter. Still, the smoky air was making his throat dry and he upended it, swallowing the contents of the glass in two large gulps. 

Adam betrayed a surprised blink. “I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’.” 

“It wasn’t an order. He’s not like that. He cautioned me that you may not understand,” Star said. He looked at the other alien hesitantly. “Are you angry?” 

“I’m not angry.” He had been, at first, when Rossini told him that the two ex-X-Force members were actually lovers. It took him the rest of the afternoon to try and work it through his head, eventually realizing that he was mostly upset because Star hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him. Like the other stranded alien, Adam didn’t have many people he considered friends either. “I’m- well... confused as hell, to be honest.” 

“Why is that?” 

“You just told me you slept with a female team-mate. I saw the way you were looking at the dancer when we first came in here. So I don’t-“ 

“I’m bisexual.” 

Russell shot back with: _No, you ain’t. Ol' Pedro just-_  

 _Shut up,_ Star responded. 

Adam blinked again. “Huh. You know, that’s actually easier for me to accept, believe it or not.” 

“Easier than being gay? Why?” 

“I don’t know. Call it a stereotypical bias,” Adam said, nursing his own drink. “I think I’ve been on Earth for too damn long.” 

“Adam, you’ve only been on this world a year longer than I have.” 

“Yeah. And you haven’t noticed how this place changes you?” 

At the blunt logic, Star betrayed a wordless nod of agreement. During the pause in conversation, a topless waitress came over and asked him if he wanted a refill. Her breasts were hanging at his eye level and he was so dumbfounded by the view, he wasn’t sure if he shook his head or nodded. 

When she left, Adam was sniggering. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” 

“I’m not seeking to get laid up with anyone.” Even as he said the words, Star could feel his cheeks getting warm. He blamed it on the drink. 

Adam saw otherwise. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“I am attracted to women, yes,” he admitted. “However, I’m currently in a monogamous relationship with Rictor.” 

“What hold does that jerk have over you?” 

Star bristled at the question. It brought him back to his conversation with Cable four months ago. The constant insinuations of a slave-master relationship were beginning to wear on his nerves. 

 _Maybe ‘cause it’s true?_ Russell remarked. 

“Shut _up_ , vehjka.” 

Adam blinked. “I was just asking a question. Don’t start getting pissed off if I touched a nerve there.” 

“I wasn’t talking to _you,_ ” the Mojoworlder snapped. The waitress came back with his drink and she had barely set it down on the table before he knocked it back and handed the empty glass to her. “Another. Thank you.” He watched as she walked away, unable to keep his eyes off of her ass until Adam interrupted him. 

“Star-“ 

The Mojoworlder turned and hissed at him: “It isn’t a _hold!_ Ric and I started as allies, became best friends, and graduated to becoming intimate. We love each other.” 

Predictably, the Shi’ar looked pained to be on the receiving end of this information. “ _Rakk._ You don’t even know what love _is!_ ” 

“And you believe you do? If I remember correctly, you were intimate with Neurotap and then you hunted her down like an animal.” 

“Michelle's off-limits. Got it? You don’t know a damned thing about the two of us so shut-up about her.” 

“You didn’t help her until we forced you to action. That is not love. To hear how you speak of your past conquests frankly repulses me. They deserve more respect than to be treated as objects of your release.” 

“I am not gonna take dating advice from a guy who’s only ever fucked two people!” Adam told him. He was prepared to say more but the waitress came back and Star knocked the third drink back as quickly as the other two. 

“Again,” he told her. This time he had no trouble making eye contact and said bluntly, “You are beautiful and in possession of exceptional breasts.” 

Even though the waitress had heard various variations of that compliment a hundred times before, it was the frank honesty in the handsome redhead’s face that brought out an unexpected smile. “Thanks,” she said. “You know, I get off work at-“ 

“Just go fill his drink, sweetness,” Adam drawled, nodding his head towards the bar. When she took the hint and left, the Shi’ar felt compelled to offer the caution; “Y’know, maybe you’d better slow down and pace yourself.” 

“I have a healing factor. If I am to reach the level humans call a ‘buzz’ I need to consume alcohol quickly.” 

“And why do you want to do that?” 

“Because this conversation is as difficult for me as it is for you. Probably more so.” 

“Huh. I kind of doubt it,” Adam muttered, taking a sip of his beer. 

“X-Force had a member who openly objected to homosexuals being on the team. Rictor silently endured his cruel jokes because he didn’t want to become a target of ridicule. It was one of the reasons he left for a short time. That was a very difficult period for me, Adam. I was just coming to terms with issues of my own emergent sexuality. Even I left the group for a short while.” 

“What happened?” 

“The Gamesmaster happened. And Russell. I don’t want to talk about them. I’m just telling you this as explanation for why Ric and I chose to keep the relationship as clandestine as possible. One reason is because it’s strictly out of habit. The other is because if his relatives were to know the truth-“ He hesitated as he considered something and then said, “There is nothing they can do to me that could be worse than what they’ve done already, but Rictor could not endure a fraction of that kind of torture. For that reason, we stay hidden.” The look he passed Adam was almost pleading. “Do you understand?” 

The waitress returned with two drinks for Star this time, passing him a wink and a sidelong glare at Adam when she left. Adam’s first drink was still largely untouched at this point. He picked it up and clinked it against the other alien’s glass. “I’m not drunk enough yet to answer that question,” he said, making short work of his beer. “Let me catch up and we’ll resume this topic.” He had a feeling it was going to take a lot more drinks to get to that state. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

 

* * *

After his walk-through of the fifth dive, even Rictor had to make the concession that this tactic was no good. He slumped in the back-seat of the taxi and wondered what to do next. He’d given up on his cell phone by now. When he was finally face-to-face with X-Treme he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Right now, he was so angry he was almost glowing with energy and had to rein back his powers several times when he heard the taxi driver mumbling about his car having some kind of weird vibration. Ric might have loosened the muffler judging by the sound. Cars in Mexico didn’t exactly go through rigorous vehicle inspections like they did in North America. If he wasn’t careful, he just might shake the pile of junk down to the frame. 

“Sooo, where to next?” The driver asked, trying to keep his voice casual as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. 

“Back to my hotel, I guess.” Ric said in defeat. 

“I know some other bars if you wanna go check them out.” 

“No thanks. I’ve had my fill of bimbos and tits for one night.” 

“Yeah, my point exactly. That’s why I said _other bars_ , you get me?” 

“Huh?” Julio blinked at him. “You mean...?” 

The driver shrugged. “How do the gringos put it…? Alternate lifestyle sort of places.” 

Panicked, Ric went on an immediate defensive. _“Do I look gay to you?!”_

“Never said you were.” The driver's name was Philip Armaz, according to his ID. He stared at the younger man through rear view mirror. “Just thought I’d show you the places where _I_ go is all.” 

“Oh.” Ric immediately felt like an asshole. “Uhm, that’s okay, but I doubt that’s where my friends went.” 

“It was just a suggestion.” After a long considering pause, Philip murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with it, y’know?” 

“Nope. Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Not one bit. Let’s go back-“ 

The man twisted around in his seat to look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” 

Ric grumbled under his breath, “Says you.” 

“Sure. Says me. You wanna be that way, fine. You’re just gonna suffer until you admit it to yourself and accept who you-” 

“Am I gonna have to get another cab?” Ric put his hand on the door handle, ready to bolt. 

With a sigh, Philip turned wordlessly back around and started the car. After a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence during the drive, Julio took off his hat and self-consciously ruffled his flattened-down hair. He finally asked in a low voice, “Do I... like, give off some kind of queer vibe?” 

The older man glanced at him through the rear view mirror again and finally said, “I wouldn’t have even suspected until you spazzed out about going to a gay club. Not too smooth there, fella.” 

Ric swallowed. “Shit. It’s just- I don’t want to be... _that_. I really don’t-“ _Except when I’m with Star_ , he thought. _Then all the doubts go away and I don’t feel scared or awkward. I don’t feel like it’s wrong when it’s just the two of us_ \- He slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms in surrender. He turned his hot face to the side window thinking about what he had done in the stairwell that afternoon. Shatterstar, usually so emotionally reserved, had finally loosened up enough to actually want to kiss him. And what had Rictor done in response? Push him away as hard as he could. Small wonder the mixed signals were fucking Star up. 

“You’ll come around,” the driver said as the young man in the back visibly grappled with his emotions. “Or you’ll be miserable.” He sounded like a man who had gone through that hard life lesson. It wasn’t one you could preach about. It was an experience that had to be learned. 

Rictor was beginning to realize that he had a LOT to learn.

 

* * *

After more than an hour, Adam and Star’s table at The Titty Twister was full of empty bottles and glasses. Star was hitting the hard stuff almost as fast as the waitress was able to supply him with drinks. At first, Adam tried to match his pace, but he didn’t have a healing factor and gave up when the star on the other alien’s left eye seemed to appear on both, giving the redhead a distorted Gene Simmons’s appearance. Adam shook his head and almost fell off his chair. He started laughing. 

Star glowered at him. The alcohol hadn’t loosened him up at all. If anything, it had the opposite effect. He didn’t like anything that threatened to lessen his emotional control and alcohol seemed to do exactly that. The more he fought its effects, the worst he felt. “What’s so funny?” 

Adam toned his amusement down to snickers. He gestured at the table. “You. Me. This whole fucked-up situation. How did it come down to this, man? I mean... you and _Rictor?_ I don’t get it!” 

“We had a-a-“ Shatterstar made a distracted wave, spoke a word in Cadre and finally managed to cough out: “-Deal.” 

“What kind of deal?” 

“We were to have an equal balance in-in _things_. He would tell me how relationships are supposed to work and I would coordinate the attacks against his family.” He took a drink and then slammed the glass down on the table top. “He doesn’t know how relationships work any more than I do! He’s acting like it’s a thing to be hidden.” 

“Look... Star.” The alien ran a hand through his mussed up mane of blond hair. He was trying to find a way to be diplomatic to this particular topic and failing badly. “It’s, well… kind of _meant_ to be.” 

The redhead glared at him. “Explain.” 

Any normal person would have taken one look at that flushed, angry face and sprinted for the nearest exit. It was Adam’s poor choice not to take the warning for what it was. He was too drunk and too determined to hammer his point home. “It’s not the social norm on this world. Earth is an ignorant society still governed by outdated religious propaganda. Hell, the majority can’t even accept the fact that alien races exist because they’re so stuck up thinking they’re unique in the universe. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that.” 

Star backed down a little. He’d watched the news channels and seen documentaries that supported what Adam was saying. “They do not accept mutants well, either.” 

“No, and mutants are _human_. Now here you are talking about sexuality and that’s a really personal subject. It’s something restricted to the bedroom.” 

“You boast about your conquests all the time!” 

“Hey! I’m straight.” 

“It should make no difference,” Star rumbled. “Ric and I have to stay hidden while you’re able to strut freely about? That’s not fair.” 

“This isn’t about what’s fair. It’s about what’s normal.” 

“Normal doesn’t apply to me. Or to Rictor. Or even to you!” 

“I know, I know. Alien. Mutant. Hybrid. Yadda yadda yadda.” Adam rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to _me_. To us!” 

“Look, you can spin it in that little redheaded brain of yours all you want but that’s just how things have to be. People don’t want to see that shit.” Adam thought back to the morning he arrived at the hotel to pick up Star for their first day of training. He remembered the hickey he had seen on the side of Rictor’s neck. The realization that Star was responsible for that mark brought up a bitter pang of disgust. “I don’t want to see that shit either. Got it?” 

 _Motha-fucking homophobic sonovawhore,_ Ben Russell snarled in response. 

Shatterstar’s face betrayed no sign of emotion but his left hand reflexively tightened, crushing the glass he was holding. There was a couple standing near them. The woman took one look at the blood oozing from between his fingers and promptly threw up into her purse. Her boyfriend called over to the bar for a towel. Unmindful the growing chaos around him, Star was staring fixedly at the Shi’ar hybrid. “I thought you were my friend,” he said in a deceptively calm voice. 

“I’m _your_ friend,” Adam said harshly. “But I’m not Rictor’s. He messed with your head and you’re too _rakking_ blind to see it. Last time we met, you were straight and had a wife. Here you are now shacked up with that little asshole. What the fuck happened to you?” 

 _“What didn’t?!”_ Star screamed, lunging across the table at the blond warrior. 

Drunk as he was, Adam barely avoided the bloody fist, still clenching shards of broken glass, and felt a line of sharp heat graze his cheek as the arm flashed past. When he touched his face and saw the crimson on his fingertips he lost his temper and activated his mutant ability. The burning pain started in Shatterstar’s wounded hand and raced up his arm. In mere seconds he was on the floor, writhing in agony. Adam jumped on his back and placed a restraining knee on the back of his neck. “You cut my face! I’m gonna get an apology for that even if I have to beat it out of you,” he snarled. 

“You want to fight, vehjka?” Teeth bared in fury, Star spared him a withering glare over his shoulder. 

“Think you can manage it without your little fuck buddy covering your ass?” 

With a roar of fury, Star managed to get a knee underneath of him and boldly pushed himself up, knocking off Adam who skidded across the floor, scattering patrons like bowling pins. Star scrambled to his feet and grabbed at the brass foot railing along the side of the bar and tore a piece free with a squeal of tortured metal. He brandished it like a baton as Adam squared off against him, pulling out two the’te blades he’d kept hidden beneath his street clothes. 

 _Bash his fuckin brains in!_ Russell encouraged. 

“Let's do this!” Adam shouted, making that unmistakable ‘come-on’ gesture with his hands. His usual tactic was to throw his blades but, even in his inebriated state, he knew he didn’t dare in this crowded bar. Besides, he didn’t need to. He was just deliberately goading the other alien and, predictably, Star charged, bellowing in fury. Just as he was about to follow through with Russell’s advice, X-Treme activated his blood-burning ability again, deriving no pleasure as the redhead went down hard, his body smoking. 

“You can’t win this fight, _roosha_ ,” the Shi’ar said, kneeling beside him. He lessened the intensity of his mutant power, but didn’t pull it back completely. “Whatever hold Ric’s got on you, let it go. I’ll let you come work with me. We can partner up with the DEA and leave this bullshit, and _him_ , behind.” 

“Where were you when the Gamesmaster invaded my mind?!” Star blindly raged at him. At this point, only those nearest to the pair were privy to the exchange. The music was still cranked up to ear-throbbing levels and party goes were yelling and cheering along with it. Shatterstar was too lost in his fury and betrayal to notice that he had started humming. “Where were you when Cable broke up the team? _Where were you when I died?!”_ He screamed, his voice actually breaking at the end. “The only who helped me through all that was Rictor. How could I not be indebted to him? I owe him my sanity. Za’s Vid, I owe him my fekting _life!_ ” 

“Then you say ‘thank you’, shake his hand, and move on like a man!” Adam shouted back. “Not become his goddamned bitch!” 

Even though Benjamin Russell privately believed the Shi'ar hybrid had a point, he concluded the attitude was the final straw. _Time to shut this fuckin scene down, man,_ he said, more to himself. Forcing his consciousness through the current of alcohol-shrouded thoughts radiating from the furious Mojoworlder, he boldly came forward. 

“I have endured enough’a yer bullshit,” Star said, his voice and accent changing in mid-sentence. His body stopped smoldering and he began slowly climbing back to his feet despite Adam bearing down with his mind. All of a sudden, his power was no longer having any effect. 

Star stood up to full height and regarded the Shi’ar blond beneath furrowed brows. There was something alarming about his expression and body stance that put Adam immediately on his guard for no reason he could understand. He started backing away while nervously fingering his blades. “…Star?” 

“That ain't my name, asshole,” Ben Russell sneered and slammed the metal bar he was holding into the floor. 

Adam didn’t even have time to react before the entire building exploded with blinding white light.

 

* * *

 

 


	14. The Cat's Outta The Bag

 

Rictor’s taxi had just turned down the street where his hotel was located when there was a sudden piercing white flash of light. His taxi driver slammed on the brakes, covering his eyes with a curse. They were immediately rear-ended by the car behind them, throwing Ric roughly against the backseat. Horns started blaring. People started shouting. Throughout the growing racket, Ric could only think of one thing; _I know that light. I’ve seen it before. Back in Boston. Back when-_

“Oh shit!” He pushed open the door and ran down the street, ignoring the calls of his driver, Philip Armaz, who was shouting that he hadn’t been paid yet. Traffic had ground to a standstill and more people were getting out of their vehicles. They appeared to be converging to a specific spot and, with dread, Rictor realized the place they were all staring at was his hotel. 

Or, rather, at the blank lot where his and Shatterstar’s hotel had been. 

All four stories of the building were gone. There was just a clean, flat surface of concrete at ground level left. There wasn’t any debris or wood or even dust to mark the sudden disappearance. All that was left lying in the center of the void were a pair of swords. 

 _Star’s swords,_ Rictor realized. He was still trying to puzzle out what was happening when one over-eager observer broke free from the crowd and rushed forward to investigate. He was in the process of bending down to touch one of the weapons when Ric called out: “No! Don’t touch them!” 

The man didn’t even have time to fix him with a look before there was another soundless explosion of light. When Ric blinked the spots from his vision, he saw that the would-be sleuth was now severed in half. It looked like he had been cut off above his belt with the precision of a laser. The legs collapsed, spilling coiling viscera and dark blood across the concrete. It took a few more stunned seconds before the mutant realized the top part of that victim’s body was missing. 

“Jaunted,” Ric whispered in horror. The word was lost to the screams of people who were backing quickly away from the grisly scene until he was the only one left standing there. Somewhere Star was trying to use his shock-wave power, but it must have gotten mixed up with Ben Russell’s teleportation ability. The swords were the conduit for Star’s power and they were emanating that raw energy despite the fact he wasn’t physically present. “Fucking Spiral,” he ground out from between clenched teeth. The time traveler hadn’t just messed with Star’s mind, she had apparently also screwed up the way his mutant power was supposed to work. 

It dawned on him that the warrior wouldn’t even be resorting to using that tactic unless he was in trouble. Alarmed, he ran back to the taxi driver. “You gotta police scanner in this thing?” 

His face stubbornly set, the man held out his hand. “You owe me fifty pesos before you're getting back in my car.” 

Cursing, Ric dug the money out of his pocket and paid him and then slid into the front seat, turning on the illegal scanner he found hidden under the dash. There were calls starting to criss-cross each other about the motel incident, but he caught another for a request for police at a bar brawl. With an insight that was almost psionic in nature, he knew that was the place where he would find Star and Adam. “Do you know a bar called the Titty Twister?” 

Philip scowled at him at he slid in behind the wheel. “Yeah. It’s on the other side of town.” 

“Well? Let’s go!” 

The other man gestured angrily at the windshield. His car was almost touching the back bumper of the car in front of them. “Go where? We’re blocked in!” 

Rictor noticed that the other lane was moving slowly in the opposite direction, but at least it _was_ moving. “I’m gonna make some room for you. Get ready to pull out and turn around.” He got out over Philip’s less-than friendly exclamations. He walked quickly over to the car in front of them and bent down at eye level to look in at the driver through the open window. “Sorry in advance man, but this is an emergency.” 

“What-?” 

Laying his hands on the side of the car, Rictor activated his powers and released a seismic wave that boldly jolted the car halfway across the spot it was sitting on. Another jarring wave of energy left it sitting on the sidewalk. He waved at Philip to start moving but the taxi driver was just sitting ramrod straight in his seat staring at him, his jaw practically in his lap. 

The man in the other car was opening his door to confront him and Ric whipped out a hand, gun-shaped, and fired a bolt at the door, slamming it shut. “Stay right there in your car, man. I don’t wanna hurt you. Hey, Armaz! C’mon!” 

The taxi driver forced himself to action. Ric blocked off the oncoming traffic and the car successfully turned around amidst a flurry of curses, shocked cat-calls, and blaring horns. He returned to the backseat when they got moving. 

“Ho-Oh, holy crap. You-you’re one’a them!” Philip stammered, staring at him through the rear view mirror. 

“Keep your eyes on the cars ahead of you. I don’t wanna have to do that shit again!” Ric hollered at him. 

“You’re a-a mutant, ain’t’cha?” 

“Yep. Guess you’re finding out all of my secrets tonight. Just get to that bar as fast as you can.” Rictor twisted around to look out of the back window. He thought he might have seen the flash of police lights but doubted he was being chased. At least not yet. It was a pretty safe bet to assume that both his and Shatterstar’s cover had been blown sky high. 

“Fuckin X-Treme,” he grumbled under his breath. 

 

* * *

 

Of the two, it was hard to say who looked more surprised when the dazzling light show faded from sight; Ben Russell or Adam Neramani. 

Ben had pictured the entire bar, including all people in attendance, to disappear into oblivion as he activated his offensive jaunt power. Aside from the usual flash of light, nothing had happened and he was left momentarily dumbfounded. 

Blinking spots from his eyes, Adam stumbled in place and was trying desperately to figure out what was going on here. He had never seen Star use a power that resembled a gigantic flashbulb before but he wasn’t going to knock his good fortune. He lunged forward and tackled the larger alien, landing a few hard punches to the face before he was flipped over. Star was larger but lighter because of his hollow bones and X-Treme had no trouble gaining the upper hand again. Like the attitude and power change, Star also seemed to have lost his Mojoworld fighting style. 

Russell was used to dirty street fighting that normally would have been effective on a street corner back in his home city of Boston against other hustlers his age. It was little good against the blond asshole he was dealing with. He tried to nail the prick with a good old fashioned kick to the balls, but Adam saw that coming from a mile away and grabbed his foot, spinning him around to the floor. The next thing he knew, the other man was sitting on his back with an arm wrapped around his neck. 

“Calm down, Star. Okay? Let’s take this outside,” Adam was saying. He was aware that they were now the center of focus in a crowded bar that normally would have ignored such dealings. He wanted to get them out of there as quickly as possible. They were drawing far too much attention. He was also worried about what was happening to his friend. _Should’ve taken those calls from Rictor,_ he thought with dread. _I have a bad feeling I made a big mistake._  

“Lemme go, fucker,” Ben rasped, struggling beneath him. 

“Not a chance.” 

“Warned ya-“ Out of blind instinct, Russell activated his ability again. The following starburst of light made the blond recoil and loosen his hold, but that was all it accomplished. That power to teleport mass was gone. 

Cursing in frustration, Ben wrenched his body around and managed to club the Shi’ar hybrid across the face with the metal bar he was still holding. Adam fell to the floor, dazed, and Ben wasted no time clambering to his feet, pushing his way through the crowd to get at the exit. He could feel Shatterstar struggling to assume control of his mind but the alcohol hadn’t burned through his system yet. Ben looked at his right hand and saw that it was still bleeding. It looked like the Mojoworlder’s healing ability had also gone the way of his shock-wave power. Bad for Star, but good for him. It meant he might have at least an hour or two in control of this body and he intended to make good use of it. 

He made it outside of the club and began running for his life. 

Spitting up a mouthful of blood, Adam let a bouncer haul him to his feet and he leaned on the man as he tried to get things into focus. Part of it was that he was still pretty drunk, but Star had also managed to land a solid hit with that damn bar of his. He gingerly fingered a rising knot above his left ear and reluctantly thanked the winged Shi’ar gods that the Mojoworlder hadn’t used his full strength. Star could flip over an eighteen wheeler when he got motivated and could have easily taken his head off at the shoulders with a solid blow.

“What the hell’s going on?” The bouncer asked. 

“Wish I knew, roosha,” Adam responded. It was a bald-faced lie. He had said some pretty stupid things to Star and was now paying for it. What he didn’t understand was the drastic personality change he’d witnessed. 

“If you weren’t a regular, I’d throw your ass outta here. You got two choices: The cops are coming so you can either pay for the damages right now or I’ll let those assholes haul you away.” 

The second was an option that Adam really didn’t want to deal with. He dug his wallet out of his back pocket and just scooped out all of the bills and placed them into the man’s outstretched hand. The bouncer must have been satisfied with the count because his next question was: “D’you need to get to a doctor?” 

“I’m good.” Also a lie, but Adam wanted the situation straightened out before he left to search for Star. At the other man’s disbelieving stare, he repeated his words and pushed off from him. The crowd parted as he made his way to the exit after the retreating warrior. As he staggered outside, he heard the music start back up behind him as if nothing had happened. 

Once around the corner of a building across the street, Adam leaned against the side and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. He turned it on and saw a message from Rictor left at the time he had made the mistake of shutting it off. Steeling himself for what was about to come he hit ‘play’ and heard _; “Listen to me, you asshole. There’s something wrong with Star. You hear me? As much as I hate you right now, I don’t wanna see you get hurt. Bring him the fuck back!”_  

“Rakk,” he muttered. He almost dropped it when it suddenly started ringing. “Hel-“What came out of the phone was a furious blast of rapid Spanish that cleared the rest of the fugue from his thoughts. Wincing, he pulled it away from his ringing ear and continued to let Rictor vent (he figured he owed the little shit that much) until there was a break in the tirade. He cut in with; “I’m sorry. Okay? I screwed up!” 

It sounded like Ric was breathing hard on the other end. _“Where is he?”_  

“Uhm...” 

 _“Where the fuck is he?!”_  

“I don’t know. He took off.” 

 _“Was it him or was it Russell?”_  

“I don’t know how it happened but it has to be that Russell guy you're talking about.” 

More cursing on the other end before the Mexican calmed down enough to talk. _“I’m on my way over to that bar. Stay put until I get there-“_  

“Rictor, he’s on the run-“ 

 _“You can’t fight him. Every time he tries to use his powers, Star’s swords act as the focus for Russell’s jaunt power. So far he’s made our entire hotel disappear and cut a guy in half right in front of me. You can’t chance him using that power again. It’ll just get more people killed.”_  

Adam ran a hand through his mane of blond hair. He’d wondered what the lightshow had been about and now he knew: If not for some sort of mental crossed circuit, he’d be dead right now. “Okay, I’ll wait for you. I’m really sorry-” 

Rictor hung up on him. Considering the circumstances, Adam couldn’t blame him. While he waited, he decided to bite the bullet and call Star and Rictor’s ATF Handler Miquel Lopez. 

That conversation didn’t go much better.

 

* * *

 

 

Running until he began to get short of breath (a remarkable achievement for this body, he had to admit), Ben Russell discovered that he had made it to one of the walled-off, five-star resorts outside of the town limits. Jumping up and scaling over it was easy and he hunkered down behind the hotel to catch his breath. He didn’t have the pain tolerance that Shatterstar did and his right hand was singing. When he examined it, he saw that the skin was trying to seal over and around the glass shards still stuck in the palm and fingers. He tried yanking on a piece and quickly gave up. Star was babbling nonstop in the back of his mind in that nonsensical Cadre language and Ben shouted at him; _Calm the fuck down! You sit back, shut up, and enjoy the ride._  

 _Ejai’kte mei foojkies, Mojofekt’ky!_ Came the furious response. It was still slightly slurred but the strength was growing by the minute. It got Ben moving to an area where there were more people. As long as no one noticed he wasn’t wearing a resort band around his wrist, he figured he’d be able to blend in long enough to accomplish his goal. Resorts were deliberately full of bars and, at the second one, he was able to slip into a back storeroom and steal a bottle of rum. Behind the kitchen area, he chugged it down, grimaced, and waited. After a couple of minutes, Star’s manic raving settled down to a drunken rumble that was, finally, tolerable. 

“Nighty-night,” Ben told him. The alcohol would do for a pinch but he needed something stronger if he wanted to remain in control. He knew he wouldn’t find it on the resort grounds. As safe a place this was to lie low, he had to keep moving if he was going to distance himself from Rictor and Adam. 

He clambered back over another section of wall and looked for a bar. More precisely, he was looking for the back alley of one. Ben’s teenage years had been spent on the rough streets of lower Boston and, through extremely difficult years of trial and error, he was about as savvy a hustler as they came. He found a lone guy leaning against a wall in one narrow thoroughfare, smoking a cigarette. Smoothening out his clothes and raking a hand through his long hair, he eased the tension out of his shoulders and sauntered over to the man as if he knew him. “Nice night, huh? Mind if I bum a smoke?” 

The older man looked at him curiously and, for a moment, Ben was sure that the Mexican didn’t speak English until he spared him a wily smile showing crooked teeth and dug out a rumpled pack of smokes. When he spoke, Ben was relieved to hear English, although the heavy accent made it hard to understand him. “Sure. Why not? Ran out at that fancy resort of yours?” He nodded back in the direction Ben had come from. 

“Something like that,” Ben said, taking a cigarette and accepting the offered light. He drew back on it with practiced ease, huffing out a lungful of smoke with a laugh. “I’d sooner have something stronger, but this is the best I can find around here.” 

The man nodded, sizing him up out of the corner of his eye while they smoked in silence for awhile. Star’s appearance and build certainly didn’t scream ‘police’ and Ben waited patiently until he heard, “Looking for something specific?” 

“Depends. What’cha got?” 

“A little blow. Some X maybe. How d’you like to party?” 

Ben broke out into his most attractive grin. “I party _really_ hard.” 

“How much cash you got on you?” 

“Lemme check.” Ben rifled through Star’s wallet and came up with about two hundred dollars. 

“American cash? That gets you most of my goods, amigo,” the man said, his grin broadening. 

“Oh yeah? How about if I throw in a free blowjob. Will that give me the rest?” Ben gave him a slow once-over from the face to the crotch and back again and then leaned closer towards him. “You’ll enjoy it. One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed or your drugs back.” He finished the old pick-up line with a smile and an easy chuckle. 

The man appeared to consider it for a few seconds and then led him down the narrow alley to duck behind the relative privacy of a stinking dumpster. 

Without hesitation, Ben dropped to his knees in the filth and went to work.

  

* * *

 

 

Adam had sobered up a little by the time Rictor’s taxi showed up at the club. Despite that state, he was still unprepared for the speed of the attack when Ric launched himself from the backseat even before the vehicle had finished moving. Hurling insults, the mutant tackled him to the ground and landed two seismic-powered punches before Adam could shove him off and scramble away. 

“No more! _Chayeh?_ ” Adam held up an arm as he knelt in the dirt. The other was cupping his now-bleeding nose. “Your boyfriend got in a hit and I think I have a concussion. I’ll even say please if it’ll get you to back off.” 

“You stupid, arrogant son of a bitch.” Rictor seethed, his body glowing green with barely-restrained elemental energy. “Serves you right for ditching me.” 

“Thought I was doing Star a favor. I heard about the broken door from Rossini. He’s the one that filled me in about you two.” 

Ric’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Filled you in _how_ exactly?” 

“I know you two are fucking,” Adam said bluntly, his lip curling with distaste. “Not too surprised to learn that you’re a faggot, Rictor, but I’m not happy that you dragged my friend down to your level. Not one damned bit.” 

The cat was out of the bag. There was no sense denying it. The Mexican’s face might have reddened a bit but it didn’t deter him from the subject. He was beginning to get an inkling to why the Mojoworlder might have gone off the rails. “I fuckin pegged you as a bigot. Did you talk like that to Star?” 

Adam tried to hold up his eyes to that furious glare but couldn’t manage the act. He looked down at the ground instead, not saying a word. 

“Unbelievable.” Ric looked up at the sky and slapped his hands to his sides. He wandered a short distance away to try and grapple with his anger and eventually walked back. “Christ, Adam. You’re one of the few people he likes and you treated him like that? Really? For God’s sake, why did you do it?”            

“I... we got drunk.” Adam said slowly. “I was angry at him for being left out of the loop. Scratch that: I was pissed off. At him. At you. At myself. _Feesh!_ Take your pick. We got into a brawl and that Russell guy completely took him over. Never saw anything like it.” 

“Benjamin Russell was a gay guy who lived on the streets as a prostitute before the Gamesmaster killed him. He hates homophobes just about as much as he hated his dad for disowning him when he came out. Small wonder he tried to kill you.” There a noticeable lack of compassion in Ric’s voice. 

“It wasn’t just a personality change. My power had no affect on him. And look at this.” Adam got to his feet and pointed to a spot on the ground a short distance from the club. Looking down, Rictor saw drops of blood. “Star cut his hand up pretty good. I don’t think it’s healing.” 

Hunkering down for a closer look, the younger mutant fingered the blood and found it still tacky. He cursed softly under his breath. “The power switch was one thing, but this isn’t right. This didn’t happen before.” 

“What’s it mean?” 

“It means Spiral _really_ fucked up.” Rictor stood up and warily scanned the area. “There might be a chance that Star will go back to his old self when the booze works through his system and he can force Russell back into the box.” 

There was a troubled frown on his face and Adam picked up on it. “What’s the worst case scenario?” 

“Ben might not let Star back at the reins. I don’t know if he can hold onto control of him or not, but he’s a sneaky shit. He might have worked something out.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know.” Rictor was looking down the street, his face drawn with worry. “I’ll follow him while the trail’s still fresh. Get an idea where he’s going. I’d sooner give him his space but, the longer he’s out here the more of a chance someone will see him and tip off my uncles. Star’s looks are pretty distinctive and I’m not gonna let him go through what happened with Martinez again on his own. No way in hell.” 

Adam heard the desperate conviction in the Mexican’s voice and glanced at him sidelong. “Sure. Okay, let’s go-“ 

"You serious?" Ric fixed him with a glare. “You think the way you just talked about me, I’m gonna trust you with my back? Not a chance. Besides, you’re drunk. Take my taxi and get out of my goddamned sight. Go back to your hotel. Go see a doctor. Go anywhere so long as you’re gone.” 

“Rictor-“ 

“We are _done_ , amigo. Don’t make me blast you.” 

Adam tried to hold his eyes up to the younger mutant but it was a losing battle. He realized he had said some pretty stupid shit. First, to Star and now to Rictor. If this was the kind of grief they’d gotten even before coming to Mexico it was small wonder why the pair had become so defensive about their relationship. “Look. What can I do to make this up to you?” 

“Fuck off,” Ric said brusquely. “That Checkerboard Ops bullshit Miguel wanted us to work together on? You can shove that board up your _ass,_ cabron. Star and I are safer going back to it on our own.” 

“Look, Rictor-“                       

 _“What part of this don’t you get?!”_ Ric suddenly screamed at him. The pavement around his feet heaved and Adam, already unsteady, fell down to one knee as the road cracked apart in sharp zig-zag patterns that ran several feet out in all directions. “I already lost him once! Thanks to you and your bullshit I might lose him again!” He cleared the distance between them; each of his determined footfalls sounding like thunder in his wake. It didn’t stop until he was kneeling down face-to-face with the stunned Shi’ar hybrid. His eyes, normally such a dark brown that they were almost black, had distinct green rings around them from the amount of energy he was sucking from the ground. Very deliberately, he said through clenched teeth: “If he dies, I will kill you. Do you understand?” 

There was no bluff or deception in those furious glowing eyes. All Adam saw was pure hatred overlapped with terror. For Shatterstar. For what might happen to him. Adam had the sense to hold up his hands in surrender. “I understand.” 

“Oye!” Philip Armaz suddenly called from where he was standing beside his taxi. “You still gotta pay me!” 

“Oh balls,” Rictor grumbled. He flashed one last warning glance down at Adam and then walked over to where the taxi sat idling. 

While the two Mexicans began haggling over the fare in Spanish, Adam tuned them out and got back to his feet, wiping his face with a grunt of pain. He was tempted to take the other mutant’s advice and go back to his hotel. He was a wreck. The only thing that swayed him from surrendering was that if Shatterstar were here and in his right mind, he wouldn’t give up if their circumstances were reversed. No way in hell. That got Adam moving. 

He had the Mojoworlder’s unique blood composition committed to memory and followed the trail like a bloodhound on the hunt. In his case, it was a psychic scent he was able to fixate on because of the nature of his mutation. Star’s blood splatters might as well have been glowing in the dark. Trying to explain to Rictor his usefulness in helping find Star would do him no good; the younger man was too angry to listen and they didn’t exactly get along at the best of times. 

 _So he’s gay. So they’re fucking. Why should I care?_ He thought. And immediately on the heels came the rebuttal: _Star was fine. Before. He was_ normal _until Rictor changed him. They’ve both been laughing behind my back this whole goddamned time._  

It was irrational logic and, deep down, he knew that. He remembered the expression on Star’s face after he had insulted him: Bewildered betrayal, pure and simple. He couldn’t discount the fear he’d just seen on Ric’s face either. _They love each other_ , he admitted to himself. _Damned if they don’t and I just fucked it all up. Just like I did with Michelle. What’s wrong with me?_  

He stopped the chase to take a well-needed breather. _Rakk, his head hurt._ And nose. And jaw. While he was musing over his injuries, Ric’s taxi pulled up along side of him, beeping the horn. Just hearing that sound was like a pick going through his brain. 

Philip Armaz leaned out of the driver’s side window. “Hey! You need a ride?” 

Glancing into the backseat, Adam saw that the cab was empty. “Where’s Rictor?” 

Armaz hiked a thumb in the opposite direction. “He went that way.” 

“That dumbass.” Adam pulled open the passenger door and dropped into the seat. “He’s going in the wrong direction. Take me over to him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Philip said. “If you’re gonna drive up front with me, you need to pull on the seat belt.” 

“Since when?” 

“New tourist regulations.” 

“This stupid, rakking country.” Adam muttered under his breath. He twisted around to find the buckle and that was when Philip slipped an arm behind him and pressed a stun gun directly against the back of his neck. 

The electric current caused the hybrid’s entire body to spasm uncontrollably. Releasing a pained shout, he tried to will unresponsive limbs for a desperate defense but could only shudder as the electricity coursed through his system, short-circuiting his mutant power. After about five seconds, Philip pulled it away and Adam slumped sideways in his seat, gasping and shaking. His eyes swiveled around to the taxi driver in confusion. 

“I was told you gotta be unconscious. Sorry in advance, amigo.” Philip shocked him again and held it in place until Adam was out cold. After that, he handcuffed his wrists and ankles. Realizing he’d left his duct tape in the trunk, he got out and opened it. Rictor was stuffed into the small trunk space, also unconscious and similarly bound. In his particular case, Philip had added a tranquilizer to the mix and then put a black canvas bag over his head. 

He retrieved the tape lying beside Ric’s prone form and then slammed the trunk closed. Leaning against the car, he dug out his cell phone and a piece of paper that had a photo and some writing on the back. A week ago, a rough-looking bunch of strange men had appeared at his dispatch station. It was clear from a single glance that they were Cartel and they dropped off two pictures of some teenagers they were looking for. On the back was a confidential phone number to call in case of a sighting. 

Philip had been itching to call the number all night; ever since the Mexican slid into the backseat of his taxi and showed his face. Why he'd held off doing it he wasn't entirely sure, but he was grinning ear-to-ear right now. He looked at the photos of Rictor and Shatterstar and studied them for a minute. There was no doubt he had successfully captured Rictor, but the other one didn’t really match the photo. Not that it was particularly good quality to begin with. Philip dialed the number. It was answered on the second ring. The Spanish was sharp and to the point.  _“Who is this?”_  

“I could ask the same thing,” Philip remarked. “I got them. Those two punks you’re looking for? I got ‘em both.” 

Jake Martinez’s eyes widened in surprise and he put the phone on speaker-mode and laid it on the table. He looked over at Gabriel Richter as he said, “I want you to be very specific. Who, exactly, do you have?” 

 _“You didn’t tell us he was a mutant,”_ Philip said and –that alone- was enough to make Julio’s uncle sit up straight in his chair. They’d gotten a lot of cranks over the last week but damned if this didn’t sound like the real deal. _“I saw him move a friggin car without even touchin it. He wasn’t even winded.”_  

“Did you get a name?” Jake asked. 

 _“He was pretty sketchy about that. His friend called him ‘Rictor’. I caught that guy, too. Didn’t have a problem.”_ Philip sounded extremely happy with himself. 

Gabriel and Jake exchanged a disbelieving glance. “Hold on! What friend?” 

There was a sigh on the other end. _“Long girly hair. Eye tattoos. Built like a Mack truck. Your men gave me a picture of him.”_  

“That was just for a reference because the two were partners. He’s dead.” 

 _“Well, I got some good news for you. He’s in terrific fucking shape and unconscious in my car right now.”_  

In a rare display of shock, Jake collapsed into the nearest chair. He clearly remembered torturing the kid with the swords; over forty stabs to the chest, stomach and groin. He’d even gouged out the teen’s eyeballs and a few fingernails just for kicks. His men had then gone at him with the chainsaws until something had happened. No one knew for sure except that Jake had lost the rest of his men in some explosion. Julio had shown up and taken away his friend’s body and neither had been seen since. There had been some chatter from the cops about finding some empty graves, but no body. 

 _No body..._ “Holy shit,” he whispered. Gabriel was scared of his nephew for damned good reason but for Jake, who had seen his fair share of fighters and considered himself among the best, that crazy red-haired sonovabitch was the most vicious motherfucker he’d ever met. And he was somehow still _alive?_ “You drug him,” he said into the phone. “You hear me? Whatever you used on Rictor, you give to him. If he so much as _twitches_ , dose him again!” 

 _“I ain’t doing shit until we talk about payment. You didn’t tell me the dark-haired punk was a mutant. Probably the pretty guy is one, too. That’s gotta be worth extra. And I have some information on them I think you’re gonna be really interested in hearing.”_  

“Whatever you want, consider it doubled.” Gabriel barked. “Now, _talk_ before I change my mind.” 

There was only considering silence on the other end. 

Jake decided to give the guy some incentive. “Offer disappears in five... four... three... t-“ 

 _“The dark-haired one. The mutant called Rictor. He’s gay.”_  

Gabriel and the mercenary shared another one of those bemused glances. Leaning closer to the phone, Gabriel scowled and said very clearly; “He’s what?” 

Hearing the interest in the other stranger’s voice, Philip permitted himself a gloating smile. “You heard me. The kid’s gay. And that one he pals around with? His friend I caught? I think he is, too, and there’s something going on between them. I’m pretty sure of it.” He re-positioned the phone against his ear and buffed his fingernails on his shirt. “That information’s gotta be worth something extra to you, I bet. Huh?” 

“You have no idea,” Jake said, breaking out into a cruel grin.

 

* * *

 

 


	15. Captives and Casualties

 

The muffled voices finally roused Adam Neramani to a sludgy semi-consciousness. The words were spoken in rapid Spanish so he was clueless to what they were saying, but it was pretty clear he was the topic of conversation. He opened his eyes and saw only darkness. There was a bag over his head. His arms and legs were bound so tightly to the chair he was seated on that he had lost feeling in his hands and feet. He remembered that the taxi driver had nailed him with a taser. Everything after that was distressingly blank. “Where the rakk am I?” 

There was a lull in the conversation and a voice spoke up in perfect English. “I fuckin’ knew it. It isn’t him.” X-Treme could have sworn he heard relief in that rough voice. 

“Could be a relation,” said another. “This one might be even worse.” 

“Naw. It’s been almost twenty hours. He would’ve woken up and tried to escape by now. This one ain’t got no healing ability.” The bag was roughly pulled off and a face leaned into his line of vision. “Do you?” 

Adam took a few seconds to consider that garish green hair and tear tattoos on the ruffian's face before he spit into it. He was clubbed across the face so hard his chair nearly tipped over. When he blinked the spots from his eyes and looked up, the barrel of a gun was about an inch from his nose. 

“Who are you?” The man snarled, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “From the look and sound of you, it’s clear you aren’t human. You a mutie?” 

Adam was a lot of different things but this wasn’t the time or place to talk about cross-species couplings. The man standing over him was poised to pull the trigger. It was clear in his dead eyes and relaxed stance that he had done this sort of thing before. Probably more times than Adam wanted to know. 

“Yeah,” he decided to say. “I’m a mutant.” 

“Shoot him,” said the other man in the room. “Don’t fuck around, Jake.” 

“I don’t take orders from _you._ ” Martinez snapped to the younger man. He pressed the gun against Adam’s temple. “How’d you get messed up with Julio, asshole? Did that pussy call for help after I killed his red-headed body guard?” 

So, they hadn’t captured Star yet. That was just about the only good news Adam could take out of this terrible situation. He considered the name the fearful man had used. Jake. Rictor and Star had spoken at great length about the infamous Jake Martinez; this was the man who had played a key role in killing Shatterstar in Manzanillo. He was cold-blooded and merciless and absolutely could not be moved to compassion or empathy. Adam knew he had to stall for time or this man was going to kill him. Right here and now. 

Fortunately, Adam was an especially skilled liar. “Rictor called the whole team. I’m the first one who’s made it down. The rest are on their way.” His voice was completely calm and his words generated the reaction he was hoping for. 

When the other man started ranting expletives in frenzied Spanish, Adam reached out with his mind and tried to home in on any injury, no matter how small, that might have broken the flesh and allowed him to use his power to ignite the electrolytes in their blood. There was nothing he could pick up on and that was the only ace he had to play right now. 

Jake trained all of his concentration on the person restrained in the chair, eyeing Adam’s hair, face and ears. “I never saw you in the team photos, asshole. I think you’re bullshitting me.” 

“You captured Rictor. He’s around here, right? Probably in the room next door.” He looked at the side wall, his thoughts running at high speed. Jake spoke like he knew quite a bit about X-Force. Adam decided to test the theory. “You killed our friend Shatterstar. That makes it personal. When Cable shows up, he’s going to turn you inside-out. That’s if Sunspot, Boomer or Warpath don’t get to you first.” 

The use of the code names did the trick. Jake backed off a little, his face flushing with anger. 

“Cable?” The fear was unmistakable in his partner’s voice. “Wasn’t he the one who-” 

“Shut up!” Jake yelled again.  He viewed the blond mutant warily, lips working as he became lost in thought. He finally looked over at the other man. “Dope him.” 

“Shouldn’t we-“ 

“Cable’s a telepath. This girly prick is probably sending out some sort of psychic GPS. Knock his ass out now before they find us.” 

“Wait!” Adam cried. “Cable wants to know-” He cocked his head to the side as if pretending to hear something the other two couldn’t. “He wants confirmation that Rictor’s still alive.” 

“I ain’t telling you or him shit!” 

“You want to piss him off even more? Be my guest.” Adam betrayed a mocking smirk. 

At the sight of it, Jake’s eyes flashed with barely restrained fury. “...Yeah. Yeah, Hooly’s still breathing. That’s all I’m saying.” He looked at his companion who was prepping a needle with a heavy-duty narcotic and then back to his bound captive. He asked in a curious voice, “You in contact with Cable right now?” 

Still counting on that lie to protect him, Adam held his chin up high and said, “I sure am.” 

“Good. Hope the prick feels this.” Jake brought his gun up and shot out Adam’s right kneecap.

 

* * *

 

Rictor jerked awake at the sound of a muffled gunshot. It was immediately followed by a high-pitched scream. There was only one person the Mexican knew who could make his voice reach that shrill pitch; Adam X. The blond hybrid was somewhere nearby and, from the sounds of things, being tortured. Ric didn’t care much for Adam, but that didn’t mean he wanted the man to needlessly suffer either. 

“X-Treme? _Adam!_ Are you-? Oh, fuck this shit.” Not wasting any more time, Rictor bore down on his mind to create a seismic tremor. There was a sack over his head and he had no clue where he was. If they were being held in an urban area, Ric didn’t want to cause wide-scale damage. Just an isolated burst to get whoever it was to stop what they were doing to Adam and to draw their attention. Then, he intended to cut loose and raze the place. 

Nothing happened. 

There were still drugs in his system making him feel disorientated. It’s possible they were interfering with his powers in some way. He focused harder, reaching out to the earth and waiting for that responsive hum in his mind as the planet responded to his call. When nothing still happened, it eventually dawned on him that his empathic connection to the ground was cut off. The area in his brain where his mutant power resided was suddenly a numb dead zone. He was powerless and, judging by the heavy weight around his neck, he was beginning to get an inkling why that was. 

A fucking null collar. 

There had been some cumbersome prototypes of the power-negating collars in Genosha before the power-strips became more refined. Rictor had been there to see and endure almost all of those cruel tactics. How his uncles had managed to find one was a thought for another day. Ric had certainly given them plenty of time to prepare for his appearance when Gonzalo had stolen his phone over six months ago. There was nobody to blame for this mess but himself. 

The pained howling in the room next door stopped and a few minutes later, he could hear a door being unlocked. He willed his body to remain still on the concrete floor as two pairs of footfalls entered the room. 

“You awake now, Hooly?” 

Rictor recognized Jake’s voice and it took all his self-control not to be baited. The illusion was shattered when a steel-toed boot slammed into his groin, knocking him onto his back. He screamed in pain and began shouting curses. 

“Yeah, figured you were playing possum,” the mercenary said in amusement. He knelt down and pulled the bag from Julio’s head. “Good morning, sweetheart. How you feeling?” 

“Fuck you.” 

Jake pulled out his butterfly knife and flipped it around to display the blade. He held it under Ric’s nose. “Be nice, kid. You see this? I used this beauty to gouge out your last partner’s eyeballs a few weeks back. Fucker was tough. Never made a sound. I’m betting you’ll squeal like a piglet, though.” 

Rictor’s eyes were fixated on the cold steel that was almost touching his cheek. His bottom lip betrayed a brief tremble before he managed to rein it in. “If you’re gonna do it then get on with it. I ain’t gonna beg.” He was proud that his voice managed to remain steady even if he was close to pissing himself in sheer terror. Ever since his torture at the hands of The Right, he didn’t do well with confinement and this was the absolute worst-case scenario he could ever imagine. He closed his eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Jake smirked and sheathed the blade. He astonished the mutant by gently patting him on the side of the face. “Aw, kiddo, as much as I’d just _love_ to mess you up, I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He spared a wink to his subordinate. “Much.” 

“The guy next door. What’d you do to him?” 

“Did you call your crew for help, Hooly?” Jake said instead. 

Wondering what Adam might have told them, Ric just said, “What do you think?” 

“I think-” Jake fisted a handful of the mutant’s hair and hauled him up by the roots until they were staring face-to-face. “That you’re a lying little faggot I should’ve killed the first time we met. I knew something was off about you.” 

“Takes one to know one-” Was all Ric managed to get out before the merc threw him down to the floor. Ric’s head hit the concrete floor hard enough for him to see stars. 

“Not even fuckin denying it. You little cocksucker!” Jake kicked him in the stomach this time. “You banging that blond prick next door? Or were you sweet on that redheaded asshole we killed in Manzanillo? I’m bettin it was that big bastard by the way you high-tailed it outta there with him. Gotta soft spot for the gingers, huh? Gross.” 

Curling out of his protective ball, the stricken mutant rasped out. “Pretty curious ...for a straight guy ...” That earned him another kick to the gut and he managed to roll over before he threw up. 

“Oh, you are seriously pushing my buttons, kid.” Jake snarled. 

Ric hawked up phlegm and spit it to the grey floor. “Get this fuckin collar off me and I’ll do more than that,” he rasped. 

“Yeah, right. I’m crazy, not stupid. Have to admit, I didn’t think that collar would work when Gabe had it flown in, but here we all are: Still standing. Does it hurt? I hope it hurts.” 

Rictor just glared at him, breathing through clenched teeth. 

Hunkering down again, the merc said, “For a pair of putos, you two pricks did a lot of damage. Your uncles are pissed at you, kiddo. I mean, they are absolutely _wild_. When they get through with you, you’re gonna think Big Red spent a day at the spa.” 

“I remember what you said you did to Desoto, you sonovabitch,” Ric told him. “I saw what you did to Star. No threats you make can scare me. How about some of my own? I’ll over-power this stupid collar. It’s old tech I’ve seen before. First thing I’ll do to you is create a low tremor inside your body that’ll crack every single bone you’ve got. Then I’ll bruise all your internal organs. And then, just when I think you’ve screamed enough, I’ll make your brain vibrate inside your skull until it explodes and leaks out of your ears.” 

Jake’s companion was slowing backing away, but the tolerant mocking smirk on the mercenary’s face never wavered. “You talk a good game, but you ain’t no killer. That’s why you let your fuck buddy do all the dirty work. Am I right? That bastard was tough. Can’t say I approve of the life style, but you sure know how to pick ‘em. Gotta give you credit for that much.” 

“I’ve never killed anyone. That’s true.” Ric admitted. “In your case, I’m looking forward to making the exception. Hell, after I’m done I’ll probably have the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.” 

Jake shook his head. “As much as I’m enjoying listening to your bullshit, you won’t be getting that chance. I’m just here long enough to get you all settled in nice and comfy-like. Me and Gabe have to make tracks to try and make up for the losses you caused us. Gonzalo is coming here with his goons to handle you. Seems only right with him bein head of the family an all, ‘though all three of your uncles want a piece of you.” He snorted, but it was without humor. “By the time he’s finished, that’ll probably actually happen.” 

Ric felt his balls crawl up to his lower belly in fear. Jake was a master braggart but he wasn’t a liar. Gonzalo was the oldest of his uncles, seasoned and bitter and some of the stories about him and Rictor’s father’s activities together were the stuff of nightmares. “Let Adam go. He’s not a part of this.” 

“He was with _you_. That’s an automatic death sentence.” 

“Then let me in the same room as him.” The mercenary was shaking his head even before the words were out of his mouth. “He doesn’t have a clue what’s going on here.” 

“Not a fuckin chance. See, I’ve been reading up on you freaks. Seems you’re most dangerous when your kind start pairing up. Some sorta mental thing is my guess, but who knows for sure? You’re staying right where you are. Besides-“ He broke out into a wide, maniacal grin. “I haven’t finished playing with you yet. Carlos?” He snapped his fingers at the other man who briefly stepped out of the room and returned with an aluminum baseball bat. 

Ric’s blood ran cold when he caught sight of it. “Oh shit...” 

Jake slapped it restlessly against his free hand when he hunkered down to take a closer look at his helpless captive. “So, you like it up the ass, eh? Let’s see how you handle _this_ , sport.” 

Ric’s eyes went from the bat to Jake’s grinning face and back again. Just as he hauled in breath for a scream, Carlos came up behind him and pulled the black bag down over his head. That almost made it worse. 

Almost.

 

* * *

 

_“Adam!_

_“Adam, you pendejo. Wake up!_

_“Por el amor de Dios! There isn’t a lot of time. Wake the fuck up!”_  

Adam’s head gave a weak jerk in response. He squeaked out, “…star?” 

 _“Do I sound like Star, asshole?! Snap out of it. I need you!”_  

Rictor. Adam gave his head a shake and his surroundings were swimming when he managed to crack open his eyes, quickly forcing them closed again. “Rakk... dizzy... I don’t... I-” He tried to move and the pain of his wounded knee quickly roused the cobwebs from his mind. He shouted out and started to struggle, pulling at the bonds that were tied behind him to the backrest of the chair. “ _Ah rakk!_ That prick shot me! He actually fucking shot me!”

_“You got off light. There’s more comin and they’re gonna do worse than that.”_

Adam looked around at the closed metal door and saw the grate was slid partially open. The Mexican was in the room next door. His voice sounded hoarse and ragged, as if he’d spent some time screaming. The hybrid wondered how long a time had passed since he’d been unconscious from the drugs. “...Rictor? You okay? Do they have-“ 

 _“Don’t say his name!”_ Ric hissed. _“They don’t know shit and I wanna keep it that way. Just shut up and listen.”_  

“I’m listening.” There really wasn’t much else he could do and it sounded like the other mutant might have concocted a plan to get them out of this nightmare. He wasn’t a fan of Rictor's by any stretch of the imagination, but knew that his X-Force training gave him an edge in getting out of seemingly impossible situations. 

 _“Jake and his cronies left to wait for reinforcements to show up. If we’re still here when they come back it’s game over. You get me?”_  

“I hear you.” 

 _“Is your power line of sight?”_  

Adam’s right leg was singing and he drifted out a bit before fighting back the shock and paying attention. “Huh? What do you-?”                     

 _“Can you use your power on me if I’m not in the room?!”_  

His cell was thick with the scent of his blood but, through concentration, Adam could detect a second source. It was drifting from the room next door and his psychic sensitivity was homing in on it now that the drugs were wearing off. “You’re bleeding. How bad is it?” 

There was a muffled snort followed by, “... _Like you give a shit.”_  

“Look, I know I screwed up with you and-and _him_. I admit it. Let’s try and work together here and we’ll hash that all out later. What do you have in mind?” 

_“My hands are pretty fucked up. Can you use your power on them? Will that burn away the duct tape and get them free?”_

“It doesn’t work like that. If I fry you, the whole body is affected.” 

There was a grumble of curses before Ric shouted back, _“Do it!”_  

There wasn’t any time to argue. Adam could sense the urgency and didn’t hesitate as he concentrated on that other blood scent and bore down with his mind, igniting the electrolytes in Rictor’s blood and literally cooking him from the inside-out. He took no pleasure in hearing the other mutant’s screams and quickly pulled his power back only to hear Ric choke out: _“Kah-keep g-going!”_  

“Rakk,” Adam whispered under his breath, but he did as he was told. When the agonized screams abruptly stopped, he cut that mental connection and strained his hearing to listen. “Ric? Rictor!” It was alarmingly quiet. X-Treme knew his power could kill; he’d used it several times for that very purpose and despite his Shi’ar military training, it still never sat very well with him. In his present state, he lacked the finesse he would have liked to have used on the other mutant and feared the worst. He kept calling out Rictor’s name until he heard a low groan, then:  _“... Ay Dios, just... just shut up for one goddamn sec...”_ A minute or two later there was the sound of a body slamming against the other door. 

At five-feet nine inches tall, Julio wasn’t a big man but he had far more muscle mass than the majority of men his age and size. He also had Special Forces training thanks to Cable and knew precisely where to apply force and leverage to open a supposedly impenetrable steel door. It took a few hard hits with his shoulder before he felt it start to give and a few more before he knocked the deadbolt loose. When it suddenly flew open, he went stumbling across the corridor and collided into the opposite wall. He slumped to the floor, dazed. 

It was the concern in Adam’s voice that roused him back to wakefulness. That and the pain of his injuries. Jake had gone a few rounds with the bat and Ric’s hands were suffering the worst. Like most norms, the mercenary was ignorant about mutants and made the assumption that Julio wouldn’t be able to use his powers if his fingers were broken. It probably had something to do with Ric’s trademark habit of firing his seismic blasts through his hands.                                                         

 _“Damn it Ric! Are you okay?”_  

Looking at his twisted and burned fingers, Ric thought; Yeah, _I’m just fuckin peachy_. _Lookit these fucking things. I’ll never be able to jerk off again._ “I’m still breathing.” He knew what he had to do and took a few deep breaths before settling his right hand down on the floor and applying pressure. Several broken knuckles and dislocated joints snapped into place and he released an anguished scream doing it. By the time he was done trying to reset a few fingers into something serviceable, sweat and tears were running down his face in rivulets. He cradled his hand to his chest and tried not to succumb to shock. Squeezing his swollen eyes shut, he thought: _You’ve seen Star suffer through worse than this. Hell, you watched him cough up a friggin bullet for God’s sake. So suck it up, pussy. You’ve still got work to do._

The mental coaching continued until he finally mustered the strength to stagger to his feet. He tugged futilely on the collar around his neck and quickly gave up. He shuffled over to Adam’s door and threw back the heavy deadbolt. Leaning heavily against the doorjamb for support, he looked inside. 

He and Adam locked eyes and Adam’s immediate reaction was instant regret. Rictor’s clothes were still smoking and the skin exposed through the burnt material was badly blistered. His face was so bruised, bloody and swollen, he was barely recognizable. “Oh shit. Ric-” 

“Later,” the Mexican rasped, limping over to him. There was a pool of blood around Adam’s chair and his right leg was crimson from the knee down. “How bad is it?” 

“He shot out my kneecap. It won’t stop bleeding.” 

“You ever use your power on yourself?” 

“You mean try to cauterize it?” At Ric’s nod, Adam was genuinely at a loss. “I’ve never done that.” 

“Try it later.” Ric’s left hand was still a twisted, bloody ruin but he’d set his right just enough to try and loosen the duct tape tying one of Adam’s hands to the chair. 

Adam knew that it would take too long. “Wait. I’ve still got a blade on me that they didn’t find.” 

“Where?” 

“Uhm...” The blond looked down at his crotch. 

Rictor figured that somebody like X-Treme would’ve had a penchant for stashing weapons on his person, but even this was taking things a little too far. “ _Mierda_. Please tell me you don’t have it up your ass?” 

“What? No!” Adam pale face actually flushed a little. “It’s taped to my jock. It’s small.” 

“The blade or your dick?” 

Adam glared at him. “Do you want the rakking thing or not?” 

Looking a little leery at the prospect, Ric actually took some time to consider it. “Just for the record, I’m only interested in the knife. I want nothing to do with your junk. You are _so_ not my type.” He said it with a sneer. 

“Duly noted.” Adam coughed. 

“Ah, _joder_.” The Mexican blew the rank hair out of his eyes and then fussed with finding the pant line of the larger man’s uniform. That was always the problem with costumes of the superhero set. It was one of the reasons why he refused to wear anything but jeans or cargo pants anymore. Trying to get out of those damned uniforms to take a piss was difficult enough but, a shit was damn near impossible. They were designed for guys like Star whose alien metabolism boasted one crap a week. They weren’t for Rictor who was usually suffering from a bad case of beer-shits at any given time of day. 

His aching hand quickly found the seam and he wasted no subtly tugging the front of Adam’s pants down and then pawing at the cup to get at the knife. It was a tiny thing, just as he’d said; little more than an Exacto blade, but it would be lethally sharp. Throughout the mauling, Adam was staring at something on the ceiling and –for once- keeping his smart mouth shut. His face was almost purple with embarrassment. 

Ric got the blade and wasted no time cutting the tape so that Adam could get his hands free. “I need you to try and get this damn collar off me.” 

“Let me see.” Adam wasn’t used to the tech but he didn’t need an explanation for what the thing was designed to do. He used the little knife to pry off a small panel and examine the circuitry. “Rakk.” 

“What?” Ric had a pretty good idea why Adam stopped working. 

“This thing looks like it has some sort of explosive attached to the release mechanism. And I think-“ He did something and was awarded a loud chiming sound. “Yeah, it’s armed.” 

“Great.” For all Ric knew, he either had a ticking time bomb around his neck that would detonate if tampered with or it was designed with a distance limiter that would blow his head off if he walked too far away. Even worse, the damn thing was old. Who knew how unstable it might be at this point? He should have been panicking at this point but it appeared that he had reached his limit. He swatted Adam’s hands away when the mutant tried to look at it again. 

“Leave it. We have to vamoose. Jake’s waiting to trade off with my older uncle Gonzalo. If we get caught by him, we’re goners.” 

Adam worked at the tape that held each of his legs to the chair. “What will he do?” 

Leaning against the wall, Ric took advantage of the lapse to marshal his strength. His hands hurt the worst, almost eclipsing the throbbing ache of his ribs where Jake had nailed him with the bat. His stomach and groin were bruised from the kicks by the mercenary’s steel toe boots. In addition to all of that, his entire body was covered in blisters from Adam’s burn power. When all was said and done, he was going to be a mess of scar tissue when it all healed; if he even got that opportunity. More and more, he was certain that neither of them were going to get out of this place alive. As with similar circumstances where he’d thought he’d reached the end of the line; a weird kind of acceptance replaced what should have fear. It was a mindset he’d never successfully shaken ever since he was prepared to commit suicide rather than let The Right take him prisoner again. 

Instead of answering Adam’s question, he tugged on the collar and asked; “What would it take to set off this thing?” 

“What? I don’t-” The Shi’ar soldier looked up at Ric and saw the expression on the younger man’s face that he most definitely didn’t like. “No. Oh no, you don’t. Knock it off. Don’t even think about it!” 

“They’re gonna tear you to pieces right in front of me, Adam, and when they’re done it’ll be my turn. I can’t go through that. Not after seeing what they did to Star.” The tears were very close and he managed to force them back with effort, but his voice went hoarse. “I don't like you much, but I don’t wanna watch you go through that. I’d rather take us both out-” 

He was prepared to tug at the collar again, but Adam lurched to his feet and managed to stagger over to him and catch his wrist before he reached his target. Looking at the sorry state the Mexican was in put things in brutal perspective for the blond soldier; he’d gotten off relatively light. “Absolute last case scenario, _chayeh?_ ” He managed to force a small smile on his face. “You and me have been in worst cases than this. We’ll get out of here, we’ll find S- _him_ , and things will go back to the way they were.” 

Ric glowered at him and finally snorted. “You’re so full of shit.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m trying something new: It’s called optimism. C’mon.” He wrapped an arm around Rictor’s shoulders and, together, they staggered to the exit and made it up the single flight of stairs. The door wasn’t locked and Adam opened it a crack to spare a look around. “I hear voices. They sound like they’re outside. You wanna check out a few rooms? Maybe find a weapon?” 

“It’s risky. Neither of us can creep around on our hands and knees.” He thought about how much Jake and his cronies liked their hardware. There was bound to be something lying around. “Worth a shot though.” 

Stealth and quiet were out the window for the pair of them. Between the basement door to the nearest bedroom, they made more than their share of noise but were still unnoticed by the time Ric closed the door, leaning his back against it and hardly able to believe their luck. 

Adam lurched over to the bed and used a pillowcase as a makeshift bandage around his right knee, drawing it tight and trying not to scream. The faded blue cotton immediately turned purple as it soaked through with blood. “ _Roosha!_ I’ve been nailed with laser fire before but damned if these human bullets don’t do more damage. They’re crude but effective.” 

“Yeah, baseball bats do their fuckin share, too.” Ric grunted, looking at his gnarled hands. 

Adam rummaged through the dresser and closet. It didn’t take him long before he found a machete, a ball-peen hammer and a pair of pruning sheers. “Kythri's bloody claws.” He glanced over at the other mutant. “These assholes don’t screw around, do they?” 

“You have no idea.” Ric took the machete and examined the blade. It was brand new and lethally sharp, no doubt bought as foreplay for whatever parlor games Gonzalo and his men were prepared to do to him and Adam. “Good for chopping off a foot or a hand.” He struggled to hold it and had to use both broken hands to get a decent grip. “A good weapon for cutting away pieces of you and still leaving you alive.” 

“Shi’ar aren’t above using torture to get information, but this seems unusually low tech. Even by Earth standards.” He had chosen the hammer and was examining the metal head. Like the blade and pruners, it was brand new. 

“This isn’t about getting information.” Ric was staring apathetically at the far wall. “It’s revenge, pure and simple. I hurt them and now they’re gonna hurt me right back. Cable knew it would eventually go down this way and tried to warn me but, I wouldn’t listen. He tried to get me an Star to join the other groups on Muir Island. But this was family, see? It was _personal_. I was prepared to go it alone but Star insisted on coming along.” 

There was a lull and Adam said in a low voice, “He loves you.” At the sharp look the Mexican shot him, he said, “Before things went off the rails at the bar, that’s what he told me.” 

“What else did he say?” 

“That he doesn’t understand why you want to keep what you two have a secret.” 

“And I’m betting you tried to set things straight.” Ric’s lips twisted into a sneer. “So to speak.” 

To his credit, Adam dropped his eyes in shame. 

Rictor tried to hold onto his anger but ended up sighing instead. “I know me being a closet case is confusing as hell for him. We had a nasty fight about it that afternoon after he blasted the tree. To be perfectly honest, I don’t think he’s gay or even bisexual. I think he’s straight.” 

“Chayeh?” 

“...Yeah, but Ben Russell isn’t and he came along at a bad time in Star’s life. Being a slave in Mojoworld for so long seriously messed him up. I think he’s just going with me out of some sorta screwed up slave mentality and thinks I’m his master or something.” 

Adam stared at him as he revealed his innermost fears on the relationship he had with Shatterstar. Ric was expecting the hybrid to pounce on that theory, so it honestly came as a shock when he heard laughter instead. “I just told you he loves you and you’re trying to pass it off as some sort of mental short-circuit? I saw his face when he said it. He was serious.” 

There was a glitter of hope in Ric’s eyes but it was like a match that couldn’t quite light. “... Really?” 

“Yeah. Really. I tried to pass it off too, and that’s when the shit hit the fan. He might not have his head together about how relationships are supposed to work, but don’t you doubt he’s with you for any other reason than because he wants to be. We’re talking about Shatterstar, remember?” 

Ric permitted himself a small smile despite the grim circumstances. “Tough as nails, too smart for his own good, and stubborn as all hell.” 

Adam nodded. “That actually applies to you both. I see it. _Now_. It’s come too late, but I see how it is with the two of you and why you both get along so well. Maybe, if I’d accepted Cable’s offer to join X-Force last year, I would have realized that then instead of being such a prick about it now. I really am sorry, Rictor.” 

The shock of the admission was plain of the younger mutant’s battered face. “Thanks, man,” he said. “When we get out of this- When we find Star, I’m gonna make you repeat those words.” 

“You won’t have to make me.” Adam spared him a respectful nod. 

Clearing that tension renewed Ric’s sense of urgency. He held the machete as tightly as his hands would permit and moved over to a window. It was dark out and that added another complication he would have preferred to avoid. Then again, it just might work to their advantage. Lord knows, in their present state, they didn’t have many. “What say we make tracks and get the hell out of here?” 

Adam went over to him, brandishing the hammer. “I’m with you. Let’s get moving.” He tried to open the window. The wood was badly warped from disuse, heat and humidity but, after some heavy maneuvering, he managed to pull it up far enough for them to slip out. 

Shuffling around to the corner of the house, Rictor saw a few of Martinez’s men lingering around smoking and muttering among each other. He was relieved to see that his uncle hadn’t arrived yet but it bothered him that he couldn’t spot Jake. The most tempting lure were the vehicles parked a short distance away with their headlights illuminating the front yard. “We can’t wait around. We need to take those guys out.” 

Adam pushed off of Rictor and gripped the hammer. “Give me the machete and I’ll clear a path-“ 

“No.” Ric elbowed him back. “They’ll shoot you on sight. With your leg, you can’t dodge out of the way. I’ll go first and try and cut as many of them as I can so you can flash fry them. They’re under strict orders not to kill me. It’s a smart play.” 

“Risky.” 

“It sure is,” remarked a voice from directly behind them. They whirled around just as Jake swung the bat at Adam’s head.

 

* * *

 

 _"Hey, mister. We’re here. We’ve stopped. Wake up!”_  

The young man curled into a ball in the very back seat had been asleep for the entire trip. When the autobus pulled into de Central Tapo a Culiacán and all passengers had decamped, the driver walked to the back and started to shake him awake. 

Wrapped up in a brightly colored serape and wearing a huge, gaudy sequined sombrero, Shatterstar woke with a jerk and stared incomprehensibly at the man looming over him. “Avi’a sai somph-t’fes?” He asked in a slurred, rough voice. 

“Get out.” The driver said in unmistakable English. 

“...Ky? I don’t-“ Star looked out of the window and saw only blackness. “Where am I? What happened to-” He suddenly slapped a hand to his forehead with a cry of pain. 

 _Oh, no you fuckin don’t!_ Ben Russell raged inside his head. _I ain’t goin back!_ In Star’s confused, weakened state, he dominated the alien’s left hand, rooted around in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out some pills, forcing Star to dry-swallow them. 

“I’m gonna call la policía,” the driver said, eyeing him with disgust. He absolutely hated dealing with junkies on his route. They were either trouble to contain or created a mess in their wake. “Get off my bus. Now.” 

The foreigner, a young, red-headed man with a tattoo on his face, looked up at him with wide, desperate eyes. “Call them. I don’t care! Something’s wrong and I need help. I don’t know how to-” He released another anguished shout. Swinging out in blind fury, he punched the seat in front of him so hard his fist went through the fabric and collided with the metal support, knocking it off its bolts and sending it into the aisle. “No! Nono- _NAI RUSSELL!”_

The bus driver backed up in fear as the man lurched to his feet, dwarfing him in size and started arguing with himself in two different voices and accents:

 _“You ain’t pushing me down! You hear me? I’m not going nowhere!”_  

“Get out of my head, vehjka! Your time is done. Where’s Rictor?” 

 _“To hell with that wetback fuck! Pedro's just using you anyway. You’re better off without him!”_  

“ _Fekt you!_ ” Star screamed. He surged ahead, shrugging off the driver and sending the man tumbling into a row of seats as he scrambled out of the bus in a mad rush. Once his sneakers hit asphalt, he was off and running, pushing aside some tourists who had watched the scene on the sidelines and made the mistake of thinking they could restrain him. He knocked them over like ten-pins and fled. 

Russell was screaming epitaphs in his head and it added to the alien’s fear and confusion. All he could grasp were furry scraps of memory that made little sense; faces of strangers, of performing actions he had only done with Julio, of ingesting substances that made his body weak and ill. The last coherent memory he had was his face-off against X-Treme at the bar. “What have you done? Where are we?” He cried as he ran headlong down the middle of the road in an unknown direction in unfamiliar territory. 

 _We’re haulin ass outta this stinkin third-world country,_ Ben told him. _We’re headin back to the States. I still got unfinished business with my old man._

“That quarrel is over! He is a broken soul doomed to die a lonesome death. You’re dead, too. Accept your fate and leave me be!” 

 _“NEVER!”_ Russell bellowed so hard that it sent Star staggering. He would have fallen if a car traveling at full speed hadn’t hit him instead. 

A person of normal weight for a man of his size would have gone through the windshield. With his far lighter mass, Star dented the reinforced glass and was sent up and over the roof, landing badly on the paved road and sent bouncing and skidding along the pavement until he came to a stop face-down in the ditch. Russell didn’t have much pain-tolerance and was immediately rendered unconscious from the impact. Unfortunately, Shatterstar was all too accustomed to agony and managed to roll over onto his back as he took stock of his injuries with the mental detachment of an observer: _Ach! Fekt, why now?! Broken arm, several ribs-_  

He coughed and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. It hurt to breath. _Extensive internal injuries. How fast was that idiot human driving? Vehjka! Possibility of spinal trauma_ (if the tingling below his waist was any indication). His vision was blurry. _Concussion. Perhaps broken skull. Fekting hollow bones!_ It was all bad news. To add to the list, he didn’t know what pills Russell had forced him to swallow before he’d left the bus. The Boston youth had been force-feeding drugs into his system ever since he’d managed to gain the upper hand. The amount had to be nearing a toxic level his healing factor would be struggling to purge. Who knew what will happen when those drugs finally kick in? It might negate his healing ability. He could possibly die here. 

He didn’t want to die again. 

The vehicle that hit him was idling on the road and he could just make out some vague shape looking down at him. Silhouetted by the headlights, Star couldn’t tell if the figure was male or female. 

“Help-” Star gagged on a mouthful of blood and spit it out. “I’m injured. Please, I need your help.” 

The person hovered indecisively for a few seconds then retreated. Star was still cautiously optimistic right up to the point when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut and the car engine revving before speeding off with a loud squeal of tires. He was purposely left behind in the litter-filled ditch; in agony and possibly dying. Without any light, nobody would ever find him there. 

He stared helplessly up at the darkness and muttered, “Fuck.” 

Know that time was running out, he rolled over onto his stomach and tried to haul his body up the incline with his one good arm to get to the road. It was a losing battle. His strength was fading fast and his legs were numb and useless. The pain was becoming detached and so was his grasp on his thoughts. The drugs were starting to kick in. If he succumbed to unconsciousness it was very likely that he would never wake up again. 

Lying with his face against the dirt, he panted weakly as he tried to sort through what pitifully few options he had left. His cell phone was back at the hotel. He was no telepath who could call for help. No one knew where he was. As his vision started to fade, he mustered his courage and decided on the unthinkable. 

“Spiral.” He rasped.

 


	16. Gut Instinct

Jake scored a glancing hit on Adam’s temple just as the alien tried to duck. With his wounded knee, his reaction time was off and the blow aggravated the head wound he’d received from Shatterstar the night earlier. The hybrid was unconscious before he hit the ground. 

Looking at the loathsome bat, Rictor froze in place for a few precious seconds before launching himself towards the mercenary. In that span of time, Jake had time to draw his automatic and aim it at him as he backed carefully away. “Don’t you move another inch there, Hooly. Dunno how you two freaks got free but damned if I’m really all that surprised. You seriously didn’t think you’d be getting out of here alive, did you?” 

“You won’t shoot me.” Ric said from between clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t dare take the chance of me bleeding out from a bad shot.” 

Jake nodded his head from side to side as if he were seriously considering what’d been said. He broke out into a broad grin. “Right as usual, kid.” Without hesitation, he lowered the gun and shot Adam in the back. 

With a roar of fury, Rictor tackled him and tried to slice him with the machete. His hands were too broken and weak to get a good grip and Jake managed to slap it away with barely any effort. He punched the younger man across the face using the gun, splitting the mutant’s left cheek wide open. Stunned, Ric dropped to his knees. In a move that caught Jake by surprise, he went for the bat. 

“Little cocksucker!” Jake snarled, pulling back his left arm that was holding the handle. 

“Yep. Goin straight to hell.” Ric rasped, getting an elbow lock around the man’s leg. “And you’re comin with me.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his null collar and pulled on it as hard as he could. 

The locking mechanism clicked, sending the signal to detonate. There was a brief spark of energy to the capsule of explosive and then - 

Nothing. 

Nothing happened. 

Nothing happened except for an exasperated voice that filled the sudden silence with: _“Stupid fekting humans.”_

 

* * *

  

Lying at the bottom of a ditch in an unknown part of Mexico, Shatterstar weathered the pain and shock of his injuries with his trade-mark stubbornness for as long as he possibly could, but the drugs Ben Russell forced him to swallow were taking affect. His body was becoming numb and his vision was deteriorating; transforming his prosaic surroundings into a luminescent fairy land filled with bright lights and warped images. 

When a pair of grey boots covered in long white fur appeared beside him, he dully absorbed their presence and didn’t react until he heard a woman’s voice speaking the High Speech. _"Careless little mongrel. What have you let happen to yourself this time?”_  

Blinking slowly, Star managed to crane his head up and saw Spiral standing over him. One pair of arms had their hands resting on her hips, another pair were crossed across her chest, and the pair at the top were out beside her brandishing swords. Under normal circumstances, he would have backed away in fear or launched an attack and it was clear the Time Dancer was prepared for him to use either strategy despite his injuries. 

To say she was shocked when he suddenly started giggling was an understatement. Her blank white eyes widened in surprise and she sheathed the blades. Kneeling cautiously beside him, she extended her fully metallic limb and let the cybernetic fingers trace a line along his face. They dallied in the blood they found, fingers rubbing together, and all at once her face darkened in anger. _“Who did this to you?”_  

He stopped sniggering and just looked at her in confusion. 

 _“You’ve been poisoned. Who did this?!”_  

His lips moved and she had to strain her hearing to catch his response. _“You did.”_  

She shook her head. _“You’re delusional-”_

_“Your last healing was flawed.”_

_“Impossible. I don’t make mistakes.”_

_“You couldn’t remove Russell from my mind. You merged his presence with my own and he-”_ His tongue was going numb, making it difficult to speak. _“He took control and he did this to me.”_ He dropped his head to the ground, lacking the strength to hold it up any longer. Closing his eyes, he murmured in English, “If you can’t do the job correctly, then go away and let me die. You do me no favors with your incompetent workmanship.” 

It was a dangerous gamble but it was the only card he had to play: To strike at her arrogant pride with the insinuation that her craft of playing with flesh was a flawed art. He was prepared for a violent reaction and wasn’t disappointed. 

With a livid hiss, she grabbed the back of his neck as if he were a stray cat and hauled him up until they were staring face to face. “You dare to insult me, whelp? ME?!” She raked sharp nails across the only side of his face that wasn’t injured, drawing rails of blood. “Answer me!” 

Star managed to feign remaining unresponsive. It wasn’t all that hard, really. He was on the precipice of succumbing to the darkness and only his highly honed sense of self-preservation was preventing that from happening. He had to know how this would play out first. There was the possibility that Spiral would throw him aside like garbage and spirit herself away from whenever she had come, but he had some sort of instinctive certainty she wasn’t going to do that. The first healing suggested she had an agenda against Mojo that involved him personally. She was a keen strategist and her affinity with the time stream permitted her future knowledge of several scenarios she could put into play. He appeared to be involved in at least one of them. Shatterstar would relent to being used in this manner if it gave him the chance to be healed. 

To be reunited with Julio. 

With a snarl, Spiral shook him again and leaned in and sniffed his scent. With her senses twisted and augmented by science and magic, she could smell the taint that polluted his blood. That, and the fact she could plainly see that his usual star-burst aura was bruised and fading. He was dying. The injuries were minor in comparison to the trauma he was designed to withstand, but it was clear that his healing factor had been rendered inert. 

It had worked fine _before_. Before she had recovered his uemeur and repaired his grievous wounds and lost limbs. 

And now he was dying. 

 _Your last healing was flawed_ , his voice whispered in her mind. She furiously shook her head. “Not possible.” When that condemnation began to repeat itself over and over, she threw him down to the ground and screamed into the night air: “NOT POSSIBLE! It is not! The Time Dancer does NOT make mistakes!” 

Except ...clearly she _did_. The truth was lying at her feet, moaning in pain. 

She crouched down near him, reaching out with her arcane senses to her surroundings while her many hands fretfully worked together in unease. Shatterstar was alone. The only other faint traces of people came from the trash in the ditch and the smell of burnt rubber. That latter led her to the road where she found a litter of glass and long black trails left by car tires. A human had walked to the ditch, looked down at him, and then went back to the vehicle and drove away. It took a moment for Spiral –long removed from the small affairs of Earth- to realize what this all meant, but when it dawned on her, she was furious. 

She jumped down to the ditch and landed beside the Mojoworlder. “You let yourself be hit by a car like some witless creature? _You idiot!_ An undefeated Champion of the Slaughter Games reduced to little more than road kill. I should leave your worthless carcass here to rot!” 

He stirred and coughed up blood, the dark trails running down the side of his face to where she had clawed him. Those marks hadn’t clotted yet and they should have. All of this trauma should be healing and clearly wasn’t. 

Watching his struggles incited her previous rage. At him. At this baffling situation. Most importantly, at herself. “Not my fault- Not my fault- _It’s not my fault!_ ” She screamed in frustration and stared back at his prone form with burning eyes. “My work is flawless! I am flawless! This should not be happening!” She bent down and hauled him up by the front of his shirt and yelled in his face, “I owe you nothing! Do you hear me?” 

If it hadn’t happened before her eyes she would never have believed it. His scent changed as his eyes snapped open. He looked at her with amazing clarity and a completely different voice came out of his bloody mouth and said to her: “Shut the fuck up, ya stupid ravin bitch.” 

Spiral dropped him as if she’d been burned. “What did you say to me?” 

Star’s body drew in a wheezing breath and his one uninjured arm began to flail around in a panic; “Aw Christ Almighty, I can’t feel my legs! What the fuck happened? Did we get hit? Somebody call 911!” 

Spiral appeared in his field of vision. Scientific curiosity had replaced her initial shock and she regarded him while her many arms waved over his battered forms, taking in eldritch information. His health was still failing but his aura had changed color and his thought processes had switched gears. Even Star’s unique uemeur looked like it had become tarnished with the appearance of this aberration. “Who are you?” 

“Ben Russell. You-” His eyes widened. “Oh shit, you’re her ain’tcha? You’re the broad Star freaks out about whenever I say your name. You’re Spiral.” 

She had woven a powerful spell to bind her name to all those of the Mojoverse so that she would know whenever her name was spoken. Sometimes she would reveal herself, most times she didn’t. There were only a select few who could attract her undivided attention and Shatterstar had the unfortunate distinction of being one of those very rare individuals. This time, however, when her name left his lips it did not trigger the spell and there could only be one reason. “You are the other consciousness I found in Shatterstar’s mind. I dealt with this sabotage. You should not be ...as you are.” 

“You can’t shove two guys into one head, princess. ‘Specially two as damaged as us. You just helped to fill in each other’s blanks. I’ll thank ya later-” He drew in a ragged breath and shouted: _“After you do your goddamned job and heal my crippled ass!”_  

The anger was back on her face.  She unsheathed her swords and stepped back to slice the air in a whirl. In the blades’ wake was a trail of eldritch light. “There will be gratitude, wretch, but not from you. It is clear that my work is unfinished here. I will erase your foul presence once and for all.” 

“Ha!” Ben chortled. “Good fuckin luck!” 

It was all the encouragement she needed. 

She spirited them back to her Body Shoppe and hauled Star over to a regenerative tank as if he weighed little more than a feather. When she shoved him in, his free arm smoothly slipped in beside her and extricated one sword from its sheathe. He brandished it in her face, forcing her back. 

“Not yet,” Star rumbled. He had succumbed to his injuries and knew that Russell had jumped to the fore but the teleport seemed to have subdued him again. He wasn’t going to let this moment of good fortune go to waste. 

“Oh, for- Do you want to be healed or don’t you?” She snapped in frustration. 

“Yes, but not without a witness to ensure you do it right this time. Bring me Julio Richter.” 

“I am not yours to command!” 

“No, you are not,” he said in a halting voice. The tension in his face eased a bit. “We are both pawns of Mojo and have been poorly used while in his service. I am not commanding you. I’m asking you, as a kindred spirit, to find my partner and bring him here.” 

Her lips twisted. “’Partner’. Interesting turn of phrase.” 

“Boyfriend. Lover. I’ll not shy away from those labels as some would want me to do. I love him. Do you remember love, Rita?” 

At the use of her human name, her lips thinned out into a bloodless straight line while all six hands clenched into fists. 

“Do you remember Long- _Urk!”_  With a move like lightening, she grabbed him by the throat and slowly squeezed. 

“Do not say his name, whelp,” she hissed. One her many hands grabbed the sword and pulled it easily from his weakened grip. “I would advise you to choose your next words very carefully.” 

“Please.” He coughed and the bloody spray splattered against the back of her hand. “We were separated. I need to know he’s all right.” 

She dropped her hand and took a step back, glowering resentfully at him with her soulless, glowing eyes. She watched his damaged aura pulse in time with his heartbeat; it was noticeably slowing down. Despite the urgency of the situation, she casually crossed her arms and sniffed. “You ask for a favor. What do I get in return?” 

He slumped down in the chamber, barely able to raise his head. “One favor in return. No more, no less. I swear it on my swords.” 

“Wherever those may be,” she said, eyeing him carefully. The room filled with silence save for Star’s labored breathing and the pulse and drone of the machinery crammed into the room. 

Closing his eyes for little longer than a blink, Star hauled himself from the claws of oblivion for one more desperate plea. “Spiral, please-” When he was able to marshal the strength to look up, he saw that she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Jake and Rictor both looked in astonishment at the woman who materialized beside them. Their eyes were the only parts of their bodies they could move. Spiral had frozen the moment with magic and took a thorough appraising look at the sight in front of her; noting the weapons, Rictor’s condition, and someone lying face-down on the ground with a bullet wound to the back. There was a gang of humans clustered nearby, similarly armed.                 

 _“Stupid fekting humans,”_ she said to herself. Shatterstar had reminded her of her origins but she still felt far removed from the powerless mortal she used to be. That woman had been weak and stupid and useless on a world that was little better. 

She leaned in closer to look at the young Mexican, wondering why he and Shatterstar seemed to be so close. Sexual orientations mattered little to her. They were a mere curiosity, nothing more or less. It was the fact that this mutant had managed to tame a Mojoworlder as notorious as Gaveedra 7 that made the issue significant and worthy of further investigation. 

She noticed the collar around Rictor’s neck and that finally spurred her to action. The stasis spell dropped just as she grabbed at it with metal fingers and phased it through the mutant’s neck. She quickly pitched it like a Frisbee at the far group where it exploded, showering them with deadly shrapnel. 

“Fuckin muties-!” Jake brought his automatic pistol around at her and a sword appeared out of nowhere and cleaved the barrel in half just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded in the chamber, twisting the metal backwards and maiming his right hand. 

Practically spitting in fury, Rictor lunged forward and grabbed the bat, bringing it down as hard as he could. Jake tried to put an arm up in defense and the two of them could plainly hear the crack of a bone breaking on impact. Jake shouted in pain and tried to clamber away before Ric brought him down with a seismic jolt to the legs. 

“I made you a promise.” Ric snarled. “Remember what I said?” He thrust his broken hands into the mercenary’s gut and sent a low level seismic pulse through his body. To do that hurt his fingers like crazy but, judging by the pained scream it pulled out of Jake, the other man was suffering more. “How’s that feel? Huh? _Huh?!”_ Ric did it again. And again. _“How’s that feel?!”_  

Blood bubbled out of Jake’s mouth and his mid-section was distended enough so that his shirt was starting to stretch out in odd places. His khaki trousers were turning dark between his flailing legs. “I-Gah! Never- _never_ beg – Kak! To you!” Jake gurgled, baring bloody teeth in defiance. 

“I don’t want you to beg, motherfucker. I want you to _scream_.” Ric placed his hands on either side of Jake’s head and released a smaller burst of energy. The merc’s eyes rolled up into his head and a great gout of blood burst from his mouth as he wailed in agony. His body convulsed as a viscous-colored slurry of blood and brains began to leak out of his ears. 

“Too fast. Too goddamned fast for you,” Ric rambled. He seized the bat again and began pummeling Jake over and over with it until the man’s head was flattened and the body no longer looked remotely human anymore. The mutant was caught in a mindless blind rage and only when he was completely physically spent did he release one more concentrated seismic blast, screaming as he did so. The energy plowed into the remains of Jake Martinez and pushed them far down into the earth. A messy burial if ever there was one. 

“Mildly entertaining.” Spiral finally commented from the sidelines. She was beginning to see a commonality of attitude and actions that could account for the mutant’s peculiar affinity to Shatterstar. The violence she’d witnessed didn’t disturb her in the least. If anything, it helped placate some of her aggravation in having been sent on this seemingly fool’s errand in the first place. For all of her flaws, she still could appreciate a good show when one was presented to her. 

Ric fell to his side and glared at her. He was breathing so hard he was almost wheezing. “You... wanna piece... of me... too, chica?” He raised a trembling fist up at her. “Bring it on.” 

The only outward sign of irritation she displayed was a slight narrowing of her eyes. She grabbed that badly broken hand and squeezed it without mercy, eliciting a cry of pain from him. “You’re coming with me. Your-” She paused and reconsidered her next words. “Shatterstar wants you.” 

That and the pain penetrated some of Ric’s crazed rage. He blinked in surprise. “…Star? You found him? Is he okay?” It could all be some sort of twisted trick, and no one was more aware of that than he was, but the time traveler had scored some points with him in their earlier meeting. It had to do with the way that she spoke Star’s name; like she was trying to remain impartial and only half-succeeding at the pretense. 

“He is not.” She said shortly and let him go so that she could claim her swords and dance a teleportation spell. 

As the energies began to coalesce around them, Ric made one desperate grab for Adam before they disappeared from sight. He managed to snag an ankle and that mere contact was enough. All three winked out of sight just as Gonzalo Richter and his men drove into the yard. 

His driver, Bruno, hit the brakes too hard and they were almost rear-ended by the vehicle behind them. “Holy shit, boss. Did you see that?” 

Julio’s oldest uncle was looking at the small fires and burning embers on the front lawn where several bodies were sitting, lying or trying to do some semblance of both (the explosive in the null collar that Gabriel had managed to buy through his black market contacts had originally been designed for a mutant with the ability to be well-nigh invulnerable. Needless to say, the resultant explosion was considerable). Gonzalo knew about the collar and jumped out of the escalade, investigating the six men who were dazed and wounded. “What happened here?” He barked. “Where’s Martinez?” 

One from the group of hired guns was cradling his left ear and limped over to him. “He went inside to check on your nephew. Dunno what happened out here. Someone threw an IED at us I think. Or-or _somethin’.”_  

Carlos burst from the front door. “He’s gone!” He noticed the new arrivals and quickly ran over to them. “Julio’s gone! And so is his teammate. They were pretty worked over so I don’t know how-” 

The expression on his face not wavering in the least, Gonzo absorbed that news and promptly pulled his revolver out from a concealed holster inside of his sports coat and shot the young man in the throat. “Fan out!” He bellowed to the others. “They won’t be getting far on foot. You find Hooly and you bring him back to me unharmed. Kill the other fucker on sight! _GO!”_  

It was probably mere minutes before he was brought around to the side of the house. A few vehicles had driven around and shined their headlights at the spot and Julio’s uncle plainly saw the bloody hole in the ground and an aluminum bat lying in the grass that was coated with gore. The only other thing lying nearby was one brown Testoni loafer. Jake liked his expensive shoes and there was no doubt that had been his. The rest of him, however- 

“Your nephew did _that?_ ” Juan, another of Gonzalo’s bodyguards, asked in an uneasy voice. Everybody knew the only son of Louis Richter was a mutant, but they had been kept pretty vague on the specifics of his abilities. With no shovel in sight, this five-foot-wide sinkhole (with no visible bottom) was like a Hallmark card of who they were up against. The sword-wielder with the explosives had been bad enough but even Gonzo knew that this sight represented an escalation he hadn’t been prepared to deal with. He and his brothers had been counting on Julio to let others do his fighting for him. It was clear as day that he had now crossed that personal line. 

Gonzalo didn’t answer Juan and walked away as he pulled out his cell phone. He got a hold of Gabriel who was waiting for Jake at a nearby private airstrip. To say he didn’t take the news well was something of an understatement. 

 _“So where is he?”_ Gabriel demanded when he had finally finished cursing. _“Where is that little puto?”_  

“I think it’s safe to say he and his friend are in the wind.” He could see the headlights of the vehicles out in the desert driving around in concentric circles around the building in the hopes of catching Julio on foot but Gonzo had the sinking feeling his nephew was long gone. It was his gut instinct that had kept him alive for so along and he had learned to listen to it closely. “Dunno how. It doesn’t matter-” 

 _“Doesn’t matter-?!”_  

“Hooly’s loose and he killed Jake. This wasn’t just a pop to the temple, Gabe. You should see it. He fuckin obliterated him. No doubt in retaliation for what you two did to his redhead. He’s gonna go for you next. I’ll set my watch on it.” 

There was span of silence before the youngest brother of the crime family said in defiance; _“I ain’t gonna go hide. You and Hector want to gobble up my territory and it took enough of a hit that I can’t leave it the mess it’s in. I ain’t cryin’ off!”_  

“Gabe-“ 

“ _Jake told me that he worked Hooly over pretty good. Kid’s gonna need t’hire someone to wipe his ass from what I heard. I’ve got some time to straighten out this shit. After that, we’ll join forces to deal with him once and for all.”_  

“Look, fuck the Cartel for just one goddamned minute! There’s something off here, Gabe. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t want you out there without-” There was a click and then silence as Gabriel hung up. 

“Sonovacunt!” Gonzo threw the phone to the ground and stared out at the east where the sky was starting to lighten up. It would be dawn in a few hours. That gut of his was telling him to savor the view. There was a very high possibility that it just might be his last one. 

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the back of one of the vehicles and did just that while he strategized.

 


	17. What Could Have Been

The teleport to Spiral’s Body Shoppe was physically and mentally jarring. As Rictor landed with a hard thump on the cluttered floor of the large room, he could hear the time traveller begin cursing in some Mojoworlder tongue. With the sword grasped in one metal hand, she pointed at the prone body lying beside him. 

“What is _that_ doing here?” 

Shaking off the shock of the transport, Ric looked dully over at X-Treme for a few seconds before trying to search for a pulse with his mutilated fingers. “His name is Adam. I wasn’t gonna leave him behind.” 

“Idiot! Adding another party to a spell designed for two could have had disastrous-” When Rictor flipped him over, her train of thought skipped the rails when she caught sight of Adam’s face. “What is he?” 

“Shi’ar. Well, Shi’ar and... something else. _¡Chale!_ I don’t think he’s breathing.” 

She picked him up and her many hands brushed along his pale face and hair, taking readings and evaluating his physical make-up. “He’s alive.” She could find a barely detectable thready pulse with her surreal insight. “Most fascinating. I must take samples of this one’s particular genome distinction. Mojo will be most pleased to add it to his collection of-” 

“You’re not harvesting him!” Ric shouted at her. “He’s a friend. You’re gonna heal him. Understand?” 

At this point, Spiral had entirely tuned him out and was talking to herself in several different languages as she carried Adam out of the room. Enraged, Ric was clambering to his feet to go after her when he hesitated. He cocked his head, frowning. Had he hard something? 

It came again. Weak and barely audible: _“...Julio...”_  

He looked around and released a small cry of dismay. Shatterstar was seated at the bottom of an oblong cylinder, barely recognizable for all the blood on him. Ric immediately ran over and slid to a halt on his knees. Looking him over, he quickly noticed the claw marks along the side of his face. “What the hell happened to you?! If it was Spiral I swear-” 

Star stopped him with palsied shake of his head. “Car,” he rasped. A bloody froth clung to his lips and dripped to the floor where there was a large puddle. He was just about at the end of his considerable limits. “Car hit me. It-” His eyelids fluttered. “The vehjka didn’t ...help. I’m not healing...” He blinked at Ric and it dawned on him that his best friend was in little better condition. “They found you.” It was not a question. 

Dipping his head, Ric raised his wounded hands, showing them to him. “Yeah,” he whispered. “But, I-I killed him, Star. I killed Jake. That miserable sonovabitch’ll never hurt us again.” 

The information only appeared to distress the Mojoworlder even more. “You shouldn’t have had to do that,” he rasped. “I’m sorry, Julio. If I’d been with you that wouldn’t have happened.” 

“Yes, it would have.” Spiral was back, roughly positioning Star into the healing module. At this point in time he was past protesting and weakly submitted to her force. She passed Ric a strange look. “All of the time streams led to your cancellation. Had he not sent me to find you when he did, the outcome would have ended differently. It is...” Her mouth twitched as her blank eyes looked at Rictor to Star and back again. She sensed something else in play here, some force that she simply could not explain. Until she spent more time on meditation and study, she refused to betray any more information. “Exchange your saccharine pleasantries so that I may heal you _properly_ , gladiator.” Her lips twisted as she spoke the words. 

“Him first.” Star objected, even as his voice was starting to fade again. “Heal him first-” 

“Gav, I’m okay. It just hurts like hell but I’m not dying.” _Like you obviously are_ , he thought with dismay. _Again._ “I can wait.” Ric smoothed the blood-matted hair away from Star’s forehead and stared down at him. “I’ll keep an eye on you and, when it’s my turn, you can repay the favor. Deal?” 

He managed a minimal curl of his mouth. “Bai. Deal.” 

Ric caught another odd glance from Spiral as she pushed him back with one hand, slammed the lid closed with two while inputting data into the module with another. “What?” 

She debated not answering and then turned to the monitor and eyed the display as the chamber began to fill up with regenerative gel. “It is the reason he refused to be healed even though his suffering was evident.” 

Ric was trying to follow her line of thought but it was growing more difficult as delayed shock began settling it now that the adrenaline rush was wearing off. “You mean; me keep an eye on him just in case you pulled a fast one.” 

She offered him one sparse nod. “Gaveedra 7 was designed to operate autonomously. The partnership he has with you is an enigma.” 

“He’s not a damned machine!”  

“A shame. Things would be so much less complicated if he was.” She stared at the capsule and the mutant followed his gaze. Shatterstar was unconscious and floating in the yellow-tinged fluid. It looked like he was breathing that liquid in and out and the thought of going in there next gave the Mexican the chills. It looked too close to drowning without ever crossing that final finish line; a timeless limbo. “He said he was hit by a car?” 

“The impact was responsible for the physical damage. His healing factor was compromised by unknown contaminants-” 

“Drugs, you mean.” Ric looked over at her. “Russell assumed control when Star got drunk. To stay in control, he probably used something stronger. He was kind of an addict when he was alive so he knows that stuff.” 

Spiral looked entirely displeased by that information although it certainly helped to fill in some blanks. “This aberrant presence is a nuisance.” 

“Tell me about it. Can you get Russell out of his head?” 

The hesitation he got from his question didn’t inspire any confidence. She finally admitted, “A temporal reset would be preferable. It would restore his mental default to the time before the psychic interference occurred.” 

Ric really hated how she kept talking about Shatterstar as if he were some robot that could be taken apart and pieced together on a whim. He knew it was the way of the Mojoverse and how Mojo and his kind treated their biped slaves, but it didn’t make hearing about it any easier. “That would mean erasing the last seven months.” He looked down at Star’s form with troubled eyes. It looked like the superficial scratches and bruises were already starting to fade as the restorative properties of the gel kick-started his healing factor. This was the second life-threatening injury he’d suffered in the last month and his time under the Gamemaster hadn’t been a picnic either. “Maybe ... Y’know, maybe that might be for the best,” he admitted sadly. 

“I said it would be preferable.” She snapped in irritation. “In his particular case, I cannot manipulate the time stream to his benefit.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re a freakin’ time traveler.” 

“So is he!” One hand pointed to the capsule. “One hundred years removed from his own timeline to be precise. I can’t replace one contradiction with another.” 

Ric was chagrined to realize how often he forgot the part about Star travelling back to this time to recruit the X-Men and then getting stuck here. Maybe because he so rarely brought it up. “So... what’re you gonna do?” 

Her mood shifted again and she suddenly shouted at him in bright fury making him flinch. “Leave my sight, human! I need to focus and you are an irritant.” 

“Yeah, like I haven’t heard that shit before.” Ric muttered under his breath but he backed off and went to the far side of the room. He was unwilling to let Star out of his sight but, once he found a crate to sit down on, fatigue immediately settled in making his eyelids droop. 

 _Just gonna close ‘em for a few seconds_ , he thought, resting his head against a rack of spare parts and odd tools. His hands were singing with any unnecessary movement, his ribs burned with each breath he took, and his crotch was still sore. Jake had gone to town on him but Ric had gotten the last laugh in the end. _I killed him. Damned if I didn’t. I did just what I said I’d do; liquefied him from the inside-out. Hell, his brains just squirted out of his ears like spray cheese._  

It happened so fast he could do little more than spread his legs as he vomited. There wasn’t much that came up except for sour bile but it set off a paroxysm of retching that didn’t help his aching ribs any. It was the act with Jake’s brains that set him off. He had been prepared to do the same to himself as suicide after intending to put Star to rest in Manzanillo and to have actually seen the end effect- 

He dry-heaved until he saw bright lights assault his vision and barely registered the svelte figure appear beside him. Just as he raised his head, a silver hand touched his forehead and he was unconscious before he crumpled to the floor. 

And started dreaming.

 

* * *

 

 

Rictor was frantically getting packed for his morning flight to Mexico when Shatterstar burst into his room without his usual perfunctory knock. 

“Hey amigo.” Rictor said in a distracted voice, deliberately not making eye contact. Barely four hours before, they’d reluctantly finished a night-long marathon of mutual handjobs and make-out sessions that had felt absolutely fantastic.* While the Mexican now looked as rough as he felt, Star looked fresh as a daisy. People who had healing factors were constantly a thorn in the side of those who didn’t. Especially if it was a person you had the hots for and Ric definitely had the hots for Star. It was the reason why he was rabbiting from Xavier’s mansion. Cable intended to link the members of X-Force’s minds together in a group rapport and once that happened the cat would be out of the bag. He had absolutely no intention of letting his team know he was gay. “Make it quick. I’m gonna be late.” 

Star crossed his arms and leaned his back against the door. His face was carefully neutral. “No, you’re not.” 

“Huh? How come?” 

“Because you’re not going.” 

“The trip’s all booked, mano. Hell, my taxi is due to show up any minute now.” 

“It arrived five minutes ago.” 

 _“¡Joder!"_ He started scrambling around until the alien’s next words stopped him cold. 

“I gave the driver appropriate compensation and sent him on his way.” 

Rictor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You did what?! I’m gonna miss my flight!” 

“Good.” 

The guarded expression on Star’s face never changed even when the smaller man stamped over to him and started yelling in his face. “Star, we talked about this last night. I’m getting out of here whether you like it or not. Get outta my goddamned way!” 

“Make me.” 

Gritting his teeth, Ric brought his hand up and made the characteristic gun-shape that was a precursor to releasing a seismic blast, aiming it at Star’s chest. Whether it was a bluff or if he was going to do the act was a matter up for debate. Moving in a burst of speed no human eye could follow, the warrior grabbed that wrist, twisting the arm around to Ric’s back and effectively brought him down to his knees on the carpet, howling in pain. “Ow! Ow! _OW!_ What the hell are you doing?!” 

“I am going to hold you there until I’m certain your plane has left the airport,” Star said. His voice had dropped a note along with his patience. “I’m doing this for both of us, Julio. Please cooperate.” 

Sputtering in rage, Ric risked dislocating his arm as he hooked an ankle around one of Star’s legs to pull him backwards. As he expected, the Mojoworlder immediately let go of him rather than risk the injury and Ric flipped around and punched him with a seismic-powered fist. 

Star’s head swung with the blow and when he turned back, Ric blasted him off his feet. “I’m not stayin here. I fuckin told you why!” He turned and threw the door open and bolted. 

Star tackled him in the hallway. He sat on Rictor’s legs and tried to push him down but his lighter weight was to the other teenager’s advantage. Ric bucked him off and fired another blast as he twisted around. Star easily dodged that one and settled down into a wary crouch ready to pounce. 

“I’m leaving, Star.” Ric walked slowly backwards towards the stairs. He had both hands clasped together and aimed at his best friend. “I dunno why you’re acting all loco, but you’re gonna back off or-or _else_.” 

Shaking his head, Star was steadily clearing the distance between them. “You cannot leave this house.” 

“Look, if this is about last night-” 

“That’s not currently relevant. If you get on that plane it will put events into place that will negatively affect our future. I can’t let it happen.” He suddenly looked scared and vulnerable when he said in a low whisper, “Julio, please don’t let me die.” 

Ric felt like he’d been doused in cold water. He dropped his hands in shock. “What?” 

“I will not react well to your leaving... the team.” It was clear he wanted to say _“me”_ but hadn’t yet reached the point of expressing self-interest that might come at the expense of the collective good. It would take several more months before he would drop his Cadre conditioning. “If we go to the airport, I will get shot after you leave and be badly injured.” 

“How the hell do you-” 

“From that point onwards, events escalate quickly. I will quit the team and end up in Midtown and fall prey to an enemy we’ve never encountered. That attack leaves me psychically compromised and that condition will continue to plague me even after X-Force dissolves. You and I will then travel down to Mexico to deal with your family’s gun-trafficking cartel. Once there everything falls to pieces and I cannot, I-I will not-” 

Ric cleared the distance and grabbed his shoulders, giving him one hard shake to stop the flow of words that had started out evenly paced and were fast becoming a frenzied babble. That worried Ric even more than this strange confrontation because Star didn’t babble, he didn’t act irrational and he certainly didn’t look scared but right now he was displaying all three. The flight momentarily forgotten, Ric looked up at him in concern. Their height difference was just one of the things that made them such an odd pair but the Mexican couldn’t deny it wasn’t a turn-on. Star was tall and handsome and fair and all the things that he, himself, was not and never would be. A walking-talking case of Opposites Attract if ever there was one. 

Star hung his head in defeat, much in the same way as when Ric had told him last night he was leaving. Casting the staircase one backwards glance, Ric deliberately turned away _–Fuck it, I’ll rebook the flight later_ \- and pulled the Mojoworlder back into his bedroom. When he closed the door, he felt a wave a vertigo envelope him. “Whoa.” He put a hand to the wall to steady himself. He had to blink hard a few times before his surroundings stopped moving. “ _Por el amor de Dios!_  What the hell was that?” 

“You felt it too.” Star was staring at the far wall with his head cocked to the side. The grief and tension was beginning to leave his face when he looked over at the other mutant. “It was the timeline resetting itself. Things will be different now.” 

He broke out into one of the most amazing smiles Ric had ever seen and he felt his heart skip a beat as his cock twitched in his pants. “You’re not making one damned bit of sense. I swear, if you just made that shit up to get me to miss my flight, I’ll open up a fissure so deep it’ll take you a hundred years to crawl out of it.” 

“It was no ruse. I can’t explain how I came to posses this information. I was waiting downstairs with the rest of the team. When I saw the taxi, it triggered some sort of precognitive download. The details are too specific to be...” He hesitated as he tried to come up with the next words to use. “Imagination? Wishful thinking? I don’t possess those traits.” 

Ric had his doubts about that but knew that the Mojoworlder preferred to live in the here-and-now out of personal habit. It was the result of fifteen years of brutal captivity where any trait of optimism had been quickly extinguished. “You said you-you died?” 

The redhead betrayed one harsh nod. “I was captured by your Uncle Gabriel’s men. One named Jake tortured me. I was cut apart by chainsaws until I used my shockwave power in retaliation. I died in your arms on a beach. I think it was near a place called Manzanillo.” 

The graphic description made the smaller mutant more than a little uncomfortable for a variety of reasons. The brutality of the torture made his stomach twist. Also, the details were eerily specific and Ric was certain he had never mentioned Gabriel because he so rarely talked about his corrupt family. Star only knew about his cousin Omar and Uncle Gonzalo because at the time the news aired he had been watching Mexican television to learn Spanish. “Star, you realize that this- _All_ of this, is pretty damn weird, right?” 

For some reason, Star was looking down at his hands; clenching and unclenching them. “We have encountered stranger forces and my origins are based in science and magic. I’m not sure we can dismiss this as anything other than the warning it was meant to be.” He looked over at the print hanging on the wall beside him. He closed one eye and then the other and made a soft grunt when he was done. “The memories are starting to fade as this reality forges a new path for us. I think I will forget everything. I think I’m meant to.” 

“None of this shit makes any goddamned sense!” Rictor finally exploded. 

Instead of answering, the Mojoworlder looked at him for a long moment. Then, in a voice very different than his usual terse growl, he said softly; _“Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”_  

 _I love you with all my heart._  

All the moisture dried up in Ric’s mouth. When he tried to swallow, it came out as an audible click. “I-I ...Christ, Gav. We just fooled around. I think you might’ve, uhm, gotten things a-a little messed up.” _A little?!_ He thought in numb amazement. He was secretly a little flattered. No one had told him they loved him since he had been a little boy when his mom had still been alive. It was nice to hear, but even he knew the timing was all wrong. “It’s because you’re new to earth and all-” 

“You would say that to me. You said it when I died. We’re not at that stage right now, but soon will be.” 

The blunt certainty to his words made Ric’s blood heat up until he was sure his face was going to spontaneously combust. It was amazing that he had enough blood to go that high because he had an erection so hard it was almost painful. “... We will?” The words came out as a pitiful croak and were answered with a curt nod. “And you-you’re, like, y’know... _okay_ with that?” 

That amazing, beautiful smile was back. “I’ve never felt how I did last night. It was wonderful.” His voice dropped a note. “ _You_ are wonderful.” 

Before thought had time to become purpose, Ric cleared the distance and was hauling Star down to kiss him. Their mouths met and worked furiously for purchase. When their lips opened and their tongues met, the touch was like an electric current. 

Ric was trembling with pent-up sexual tension and he boldly reached down and gripped Star’s crotch, finding the warrior hard. Mimicking the action, the alien cupped Ric’s straining erection and lightly squeezed. “Ay Dios, Gav-” 

“Again.” Star rumbled when their mouths parted and he rested his forehead atop of the smaller man’s. They stared into each other’s eyes; pale blue against dark brown. “What we did last night. Can we do that again?” 

Ric’s answer was a wordless tug that sent them stumbling over to his bed. He pulled off his shirt and helped Star with his, running his dark hands along that hard flesh. Rictor had an excellent build thanks to years of participating in various X groups, but there were few who could compare to Shatterstar’s intimidating physique. Tracing those ripped abdominals with his fingers, Ric was momentarily stunned by what he saw and felt. He should have been feeling awkward or at least ashamed and felt neither of those things. He just felt lust and admiration and it was all tied into a bigger emotion he couldn’t yet put into words. Perhaps it was as Star had said. Maybe it _was_ love. Rictor didn’t know but he was more than willing to find out. 

His fingers were undoing the button to Star’s jeans when there was a rap of knuckles against the door followed by, _“Hey Ric. You okay?”_  

James Proudstar. 

Putting a finger to his lips, Rictor walked over to the door and opened it just a crack to look out. “Hey Jim...” He faked a coughing fit (sitting on the bed and out of sight, Shatterstar shook his head in amusement). “What’s up?” 

The huge Native looked down at him in concern, noting the dishevelled hair, flushed face and naked torso. “Hey man, you okay? Star got rid of your taxi. I thought you were all set to leave today.” 

“I was, but started feeling too sick. Caught some sorta bug.” 

“You want me to send up McCoy?” 

“Aw hell, no. That’d just make it worse.” And that was the definite truth. “I just need to sleep is all.” 

“Sure. Okay man, but Cable-” 

Now _there_ was a name capable of ruining a perfectly good hard-on. “’Night, Jim,” Ric said, shutting the door.

 _“It’s morning!”_  

“Whatever.” As an extra precaution, he locked it before heading back to the bed. Just in case James was hovering in the hallway, Ric mouthed the words to Star: “Where were we?” 

Star was smiling as the Mexican’s hands went unerringly back to the waistband of his jeans. “Za’s Vid, you are a terrible actor,” he murmured. 

“I’ve got two skills: Destroying shit and jerking off.” He freed Star’s erection and took firm hold of it, relishing the sound of that sharp intake of breath from the larger man. “Or have you forgotten about that second skill already?” He smirked. 

Star clenched his teeth. “It would appear that practice and repetition has given you an unfair advantage in this particular area.” 

“Yeah, I’m a freak.” Ric kept hold of him with one hand while he rooted around in the nightstand drawer for some lubricant with the other. “You still got those weird memories of yours kicking around?” 

“They’re there, but fading.” 

“How far did we go?” He added a dollop of lube to Star’s cock and stroked it. In response, the alien’s entire body shivered. “It wasn’t just _this_ , was it? What else did we do?” 

Star blinked at him and tried desperately to focus past that exquisite friction Ric was creating with his hand and search that deluge of foreign memories. There were distinct remnants and flashes but trying to put them to words was an issue. “We-we took each other into our mouths-” 

“ _Tssss._ _No mames.”_ Ric shoved his pants down his thighs and began stroking his rod. The fact that he was chafed from their antics the night before made his dick more sensitive to this mauling than ever. He wasn’t going to hold in his load for very long. “What else? Oh man, gimme details.” 

Star was unconsciously arching his back and moving his hips in time to Ric’s strokes. “We sucked and licked each other to climax. And when that was over, we used the spend of our release to-to-“ He swallowed and it felt like his face was on fire. 

“What Star?” Ric gasped. “What’d we do?” 

“We fucked.” Star had never said the word before and they both looked at each other with equal shock. “We fucked each other. We did it so many times and I- It was absolutely glorious, Julio. The feel of you inside me. You were thrusting and making me feel so full I could barely stand it. And when I entered you- _Oh fekt!_ ”

He gritted his teeth as Ric’s hand gained a noticeable vibration. He was close to ejaculating but was trying desperately to maintain control. The release was better that way, far more potent, but he was quickly discovering it was a difficult thing to achieve. 

Ric had his eyes closed and visualizing what Star’s was saying. He was so close to coming but needed to hear more. Just a little bit more to push him over that razor-thin edge. “What’d I feel like?” He panted. “Ah Christ, Star. Don’t leave me hanging here. What was I like?” 

“Tight. _Fekt_ , you were so tight. Much like your hand, but it was so much hotter. It felt like my- like I was burning from the waist up. And the way you moved beneath me-” 

“Oh shit! That’s it!” Ric’s body began spasming as he climaxed. 

His cell phone started ringing on the night table and Star instinctively reached for it just as Ric lost control of his power. The Mexican sent a tremor through his hand that enveloped Star’s cock. The alien’s back arched uncontrollably as he screamed in as much pain as pleasure from the unexpected orgasm. “A’ky _FEKT!_ Gh’eh sai-! _Za’s Vid-!”_  

Uncoordinated and still twitching from his release, Ric slapped a hand down over Star’s mouth. “Christ! Shut the fuck up!” He hissed. 

“Wha-why’s your hand wet?” The Mojoworlder wiped his face and saw strings of semen clinging to his fingers. He recoiled in horror. “Gah! _Vehjka!”_  

Ric flopped down on his back, breathing hard and smiling. “Oh, quit your bitching. You said we’d be sucking each other off soon enough. Maybe after I reload, we can-” He cocked his head to the side. “Hey. D’you hear somebody talking?” 

Star realized that he was holding Ric’s cell phone in his other hand. At some point during his climax he must have hit the wrong key and accidently answered it. The two shared a guilty look before the warrior put it to his ear. 

Rictor tried to reach for it. “Are you crazy? Don’t-” 

“Hello?” Star asked politely. He listened for a few seconds and then handed it over. “It’s Cable. He wants to talk to you.” 

Ric grabbed a pillow instead and held it over his face to muffle his anguished scream. After he got that out of his system, he snatched the mobile from Star’s hand and said in a defeated tone, “... What?” 

“Congratulations for finally losing your virginity.” Cable grumbled into his ear. In the background, Domino was laughing so hard she was nearly crying. 

Rictor felt a little like crying right now, too.

 

* * *

 

He _was_ crying. Crying and gasping and coughing as his lungs tried to expel the liquid that was drowning him. He barely registered the voice saying over and over; “Cough it out. You’re not choking. It’s just the gel and it has a high oxygen content. Don’t panic and just cough it out. You’ll be okay, Ric. Please relax. Remember to breathe.” 

It dawned on him that he _could_ breathe, just that his lungs felt heavy and loaded down. He whooped in a choked breath, coughed, and raised his head. He managed a relieved acknowledgment at who he saw until he fell back to coughing again. 

Star was kneeling beside him, fully healed and wearing a black one-piece jumper. Ric hooked an arm around his neck to haul him in closer. “What... what’s going on?” He managed to choke out. 

Star grabbed one of his hands and Ric, initially wincing in anticipation for the pain from his broken fingers, was surprised to see them whole again. The severe burns from X-Treme’s power had healed and disappeared with no scarring. “What the hell?” He gingerly touched his face and just felt rough stubble. 

“You’re healed, Julio,” Shatterstar told him. “You were placed into the tank after I came out.” 

“Dios, you’re alive.” Relieved, he wanted to haul the larger man closer for a kiss but grimaced; spitting gel out of his mouth. “Gross. I’ll kiss you after I get this shit out of my system.” 

“I wouldn’t object.” Star said before he nodded in Ric’s other direction. “Although _he_ might.” 

Turning, Rictor saw that Adam X was leaning against a bank of computers and similarly dressed in a black one-piece. He was also fully recovered from his ordeals and was now smirking at them. “No need to get defensive on my account, _roosha_. I’ve made my peace with the situation.” 

“That’s true, Gav.” Ric stood up on wobbling legs. “We had a long talk back at Jake’s hide-out. Everything’s cool.” 

“It is not. X-Treme made extremely derogatory comments and that affront to my honour remains unresolved.” Star said with amazing venom. 

As if speaking to a child, Adam said slowly. “I am very, very sorry for what I said back at the bar. _Cheyah?_ We good?” 

“No.” Star glanced over at an alcove where a tarpaulin was hanging partially over the entrance. Ignoring Adam, he told Ric, “In there is a shower and one of these garments. I’d suggest you make use of it while the Time Dancer is absent.” 

Ric had learned the hard way not to get between the Mojoworlder and the Shi’ar hybrid. The whole warrior/soldier dynamic made things more complicated than simple wordplay and they had to sort this out on their own. “Where is she?” 

“Unknown and that concerns me.” 

That got Ric moving. “I won’t be long. Try not to kill each other.” He disappeared into the little room, leaving behind the two men who stared warily at each other. 

Adam broke the silence first. “I’m not fighting you.” 

Star glowered at him. “I guess your healing was a waste of time then.” There was a length of rebar leaning against the wall and he picked it up; slapping it against his free hand he advanced. 

Giving ground and ducking behind a rack, Adam gamely tried again. “I meant it when I said I’m sorry. Taking you to that bar damn near cost all of us our lives. That’s on me, but I promise I’ll make it up to the both of you.” 

“Do you have any comprehension of the damage you’ve caused?” Star snapped. “Your actions have led us _here_.” He gestured to Spiral’s cramped Body Shoppe. “Rictor’s relatives now know of us. All our possessions are lost including my swords. I’m now indebted to an enemy I abhor. There is _nothing_ you can do or say that can fix this!” Holding the bar with both hands as if it was a sword he smashed it against the rack and almost cut it in half. “I should kill you. _I want to kill you!”_  

Adam put his hands up and made no move to protect himself. “I’m not your enemy.” 

Glaring at him, Star unexpectedly threw the rebar across the room. “You’re not my ally either, vehjka. When we are free from this place, our alliance is done.” 

“Star, let me try-” 

 _“We’re done!”_  

There was no emotion other than rage blazing from the Mojoworlder’s sky-blue eyes and Adam was disheartened to realize he had lost a friend due to his poor conduct. He figured if anyone would have held onto a grudge it would have been Rictor and had nobody but himself to blame for this disaster. It was clear in Star’s conduct that apologies would not soothe over this situation. They were just words and he was a man to whom deeds meant more. In a low voice, he helplessly repeated the words; “I’m sorry.” 

Star just muttered something in Cadre and deliberately turned his back to him. 

Rictor’s appearance from the shower coincided with Spiral’s and she wasn’t alone. One of her many arms had a firm grip on the back of the neck of a young Mexican man who couldn’t be older than twenty. He was babbling a litany of terrified Spanish. _“-to me? Where am I? Who- What are you? Where have you taken me?”_  

Rictor told him to calm down and looked up at the tall time traveller. “Why is he here? Who is he?” She appeared to be gloating for some strange reason and her focus was only on Shatterstar. The warrior, already visibly tense, regarded the young man with a guarded look on his face. 

“Think, young gladiator.” Spiral said to him. “Who could this possibly be?” 

“You found him.” Star realized. “You went back and you found him.” 

“Found who?” Ric looked at his boyfriend. “Star, what’s she talking about?” 

“That’s the human who hit me with his car.” The Mojoworlder’s voice dropped a note as he slowly walked closer. He ran his hand idly along the tools scattered on a nearby bench. “I begged him for help but he left me in the ditch and drove away.” 

“Stupid move, _roosha_ ,” Adam murmured. He had a pretty good idea what was about to happen next but made no move to intervene. He was beginning to realize he was dealing with an entirely different culture here; one that made even the often brutal Shi’ar customs look tame in comparison. 

“This is unfinished business,” Spiral hummed. “Mojoworld justice must be dealt to this human. The crime of pain has been inflicted. The act demands reciprocity.” 

Rictor was beginning to get an inkling of what she wanted. “Leave the guy alone! What’s done is done. Send him back!”                    

 _“What’s going on?!”_ The man screamed. 

All of Spiral’s attention was focused on Star who was glaring at her. “I know your time on Earth has domesticated you, Gaveedra 7, but you and your friends will not be permitted to leave until-” Star made a sudden downward slashing motion with his left arm and she betrayed a rare flinch of surprise before she felt the human in her grasp go limp. When she looked at her captive, she saw the handle of a screwdriver protruding from his forehead. 

Adam was watching the grim scene and had caught the slight of hand of Star palming the tool from the work bench. He frowned at the end result and looked away. 

Ric released a cry of dismay. “Star! What the hell, man?!” 

Ignoring him, the Mojoworlder cleared the distance and addressed Spiral in the High Speech. _“I am Mojo V’s property, Time Dancer. As such, I’m contractually obligated to perform for him and him alone. I will not play at being your puppet for pointless juvenile amusement. Do I make myself clear?”_  

Spiral’s eyes narrowed a fraction and she dropped the body. _“Crystal,”_ she hissed. 

 _“I owe you a debt. It will not be forgotten. Until such time of your choosing to collect, I would that we be away from this place. Our current business is done. With my ...appreciation.”_ He bowed his head and punched his right pec with a closed fist. It sickened him to show such respect to a creature as warped as Spiral, but she had done some good here and his honor would not let him forget that fact. 

It was the proper thing to do. The anger passed from her face as quickly as it appeared. She almost looked flattered. “To where and when do you want to go?” 

Ric was trying to catch Star’s eye but the Mojoworlder was deliberately avoiding his gaze. “What do you mean _when?_ We have a choice?” 

“My Body Shoppe is tucked into a nexus pocket.” 

“... Uhm, yeah. That doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

“It is a rarity found in time and space. A spot set where all the time stream currents cross and yet it remains apart from those realities. From here I can jump to any When or Where. Although, in your case, because of _him_ -” One arm gestured at Shatterstar. “Any time before the _When_ from where I collected him is off-limits. He is an anchor in your reality because of his time-displaced status.” 

“Man, listening to this shit is really screwing with my head.” Rictor muttered under his breath. 

Star murmured back. “Try living it.” 

“The office of Miguel Lopez. The day after we were taken by Martinez.” Adam suddenly said. He looked at Rictor’s confused expression and explained, “He’s just about the only one left that you two trust. Plus, he’s probably the only person with the authority to get Star’s swords back to him.” 

“I have no quarrel with B’rev Lopez. It is as good a time and place as any.” The warrior said in agreement. 

Ric looked leery at the thought of being dropped back into that meat grinder so soon. He didn’t know how long a time they’d all spent healing, but to him the whole torture and murder thing with Jake felt like it had just happened. He wished he could tell Spiral to drop them off at Cable’s safehouse in North Carolina and just abandon this personal crusade but Spiral had stated the reason why it wasn’t possible. Besides, even if they _could_ go back, it would mean that their last three months would have all been for nothing. Jake was dead, but he’d just been a puppet of the Cartel. All three of Ric’s uncles were the ones in control and with him and Star out of the picture, they’d be back up and running as if nothing had ever happened. The two of them had to finish what they’d started. “Sure. Sound’s good,” he finally said. 

Spiral didn’t ask for specifics or directions. She evidently didn’t need them. With a nonsensical set of contortions from her many arms, they appeared in the DEA agent’s dark office. According to the digital clock on the agent’s desk, it was one day later and close to midnight. “This is where we part company for good,” Spiral told them. “No more timely interventions. No more healings. According to the streams there will be no further need of such heroics.” 

“Does that mean we win?” Ric asked hopefully. 

Only her soulless white eyes stared back at him, unfathomable to decipher. 

Taking the hint, the Mexican said, “Uh, okay. Well, thank you for all your, y’know, help and stuff.” He waggled his perfectly healed fingers at her. “Can’t fault the workmanship. So, take, uhm, care of yourself.” 

He awkwardly stuck his hand out, not believing for a second that she would take it. When she grabbed his wrist, he released a shocked squawk as she hauled him in close to whisper in his ear: “It was no dream. The nexus showed you how your life would have been if you had chosen the correct path.” 

His eyes widened at her. That dream while he had been healing had been so vivid and wonderful that he could never believe it could have happened. “Y-you mean that was all real?” _If I hadn’t left the team that morning_ , he was thinking. _If I hadn’t abandoned Star. Would things have really turned out that way if I’d stayed?_  

Spiral confirmed his thoughts, not his words. “It is what could have been. Don’t dwell on it. You will make many more mistakes.” She pushed him roughly back. Before he could demand an explanation, she was gone. 

The three young men stood silently in the dark office and stared at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A Year in Review - Chapter 4: Intimate Friends


	18. The Right Path

 

Instead of having them all stumbling around in the dark, Rictor shuffled over to the desk and turned on the lamp. He settled into the padded office chair with a grateful sigh and motioned to the loveseat by the wall. “You two can fight over that. I’m not moving my ass from this chair til morning.” 

“That will not be necessary,” Shatterstar said. “X-Treme is leaving.” 

Adam had been looking out of the window and now shot him a sharp look. “I am?” 

The tense expression on the Mojoworlder’s face hadn’t eased despite the fact they were back in safe territory. “You can leave through that window or by the door. It makes no difference to me so long as you’re out of my sight.” 

“Star-” Ric half-rose out of chair only to face Star’s upright hand. He reluctantly settled back down and left it to them. 

Adam could tell just by looking at Star that arguing would do him no good but he genuinely wanted to make amends. “Look, I can help you guys. Really. Let me stay.” 

“We have been compromised. You are not. Go back to your DE of A and leave us to sort out this mess you’ve created.” Star crossed his muscular arms and glowered at him. “Window or door?” 

There was going to be no resolving the issue. Not right now. Sticking around could potentially make things worse. Adam reached into the pocket of his black jumper and pulled out a set of keys. He threw them on the desk in front of Rictor. “Those are the keys to my car. I left it at the bar but chances are good that Lopez had it towed back here. I won’t report it stolen for a couple of days. That should give you time to get to wherever you’re going before you have to ditch it.” 

Ric passed him a grateful nod. “Gracias, amigo.” 

“Hidden under the spare tire is about $50,000 pesos. It’s all yours.” He caught the look Ric gave him and shrugged. “It was just lying around at the last drug den I cleared out. I considered it a tip for services rendered. You guys need it more than I do.” 

Star rumbled. “Thank you for your contribution. _Adios_.” 

Knowing that the building was heavily secured, Adam pulled out the air conditioning unit and opened the window. They were only on the second floor and it was an easy drop to the ground. He looked back. “I’ll have my scanner on. If I hear some chatter about you guys, I’ll come running. I promise.” 

Star’s muttered retort of “Unnecessary” was beneath Rictor’s more generous “Thanks”. Passing them a reluctant wave, X-Treme jumped to the ground and slipped out of sight. 

Dropping the pretence of hostility, Star sat down on the sofa and slumped back with a weary grunt. He closed his eyes and tried to work out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. When he opened them again, he noticed that Ric was staring at him. “What?” 

“A little hard on the guy, weren’t you?” 

“Considering I wanted to kill him; no.” 

“He said he was sorry, Star. He meant it.” 

“You were not at the bar. You did not hear what he said to me.” Star sat forward and braced his elbows on his knees and looked moodily down at the carpet. “I went through fifteen years of being called the most loathsome things you could imagine and I learned not to take offense. I was treated as a weapon by the Cadre and again, I did not take offence. It was not until I came to Earth that I began to understand how words can wound. And it was not until my exchange with X-Treme at the bar that I realized just how much those words wounded me personally.” His voice was steadily rising but Rictor realized that it wasn’t just anger at the heart of it like he’d first thought. Star felt confusion and betrayal and they were new things for him to grapple with. “Right now, just looking at X-Treme...” He visibly struggled with the proper words in English to express how he felt. 

Rictor knew what he wanted to say. He’d felt it himself too many times to count. “It hurts.” He patted the left side of his chest. “In here. You considered him a friend and he let you down.” 

Reluctantly, Star nodded. 

“I made you feel that way too, didn’t I? When I pushed you away in the stairwell back at the hotel.” 

“Yes.” 

“Did that trigger Russell? You said he was talking in your head right after that happened.” 

“It was using my shockwave power that woke up Russell. Or, rather, what I _thought_ was my shockwave power. The tree was _jaunted_.” He shook his head in irritation. “That first healing somehow combined his remnant traces to my body and it completely short-circuited my power. You said our hotel building disappeared at the same time I- Russell was battling X-Treme?” 

“Winked right out of sight.” Rictor said. “I saw the flash. Your swords were the only thing left untouched. Ben must have tried to use that power again because half of some curious spectator disappeared. It was-” He remembered seeing the severed trunk of the unknown man as it fell forward and the squelching sound the body had made hitting the concrete. He swallowed and grimaced. “It was really gross.” 

“How many people would have been in that building?” 

Ric knew why he was asking that question. “Gav, don’t go down that road thinking about it too much. What happened wasn’t your fault. None of it was. If you wanna blame anyone than blame me. I'm the one who started the whole mess.” 

Star thought of their argument in the stairwell and how badly it had made him feel. “I still don’t understand why publically displaying our union bothers you so much. You are a powerful mutant. You have skills few humans can boast. Your training is exceptional. With those abilities in your favor you could successfully counter anyone who would dare voice protest. The gender you prefer should not plague you so much. But it does.” 

“Yeah, it does.” Rictor rose from the office chair to sit beside him. “I wish I could tell you it’ll get better, Star, but it’s not gonna. I don’t think it ever will and I’m sorry. You deserve better.” 

“No, I don't.” The warrior said bluntly. “I have killed far too many for senseless entertainment value. The more emotions I process, the more I realize I wasn’t an entertainer; I was a butcher.” 

Ric poked him hard in the shoulder. “You were a _slave_. You had no say in the matter and would’ve died if you hadn’t done it.” 

Star looked at him sidelong, not quite able to make eye contact. “But I enjoyed it. I still do. That’s why I never wanted you to kill; not even someone as loathsome as Martinez. It is not your nature. It’s mine.” 

“I wanted to kill him. I had to.” Rictor chewed on his bottom lip for a moment and then got back to his feet to look out of the window before closing the blinds. He was visibly collecting his thoughts, wondering if he should speak and what words to use and finally blundered ahead with: “He killed you and maybe he got a few kicks out of it but it was on orders from Gabriel. What he did to me at his hide-out... That was personal. He _made_ it personal.” 

Star could read body language as well as anything put to paper and he didn’t like watching his partner’s guarded movements. In a lower voice, he rumbled, “What did he do to you?” 

“He found out I was gay from the taxi driver who turned us in. He roughed me over, made a few cheap shots and then-” He swallowed. “He brought a-a baseball bat into the room.” 

Rising slowly to his feet, Star looked at him. He asked the question again in a low, measured tone. “What did he do to you, Julio?” 

Ducking his head, Ric crossed his arms tightly across his chest and rubbed at an imaginary spot on the carpet with the toe of his sneaker. “He put a bag over my head, pulled my pants and underwear down to my knees and leaned me over a chair. He kept threatening that he was gonna rape me with the bat. He and the guy he was with. They kept walking circles around me and laughing and calling me ‘puto’ and ‘cocksucker’ and ‘faggot’. He even nudged my ass a few times with that fucking thing.” 

Star’s eyes widened in rising horror. “Julio-” 

“He didn’t push it in.” Ric glanced up at him and there were tracks of tears running down both flushed cheeks. “Just kept up with the insults and the threats. It seemed like it went on for hours. Maybe it did, I don’t know. I just about yelled at him to do it just to get it over and done with. Finally, he pulled my pants back up and worked me over with it; breaking my hands all to shit and some ribs.” He let out a shaky breath. “But lying over the chair like that... Tied up, half-naked, not able to use my powers, being called _puto_ over and over _and over_...” 

“You had to kill him to save your honor.” 

“Oh, fuck my honor!” Ric hissed. “I killed him because he was _right!_ I _am_ a faggot, Star. I hate myself for being this way. I’ve _always_ hated myself-” Before he could get the rest of the words out, he was lying on the floor with a mark rising on his jaw and Shatterstar standing threateningly over him, both fists clenched. 

“I have repeatedly praised your assets.” Star growled down at him. “You refuse to believe them. I will no longer tolerate listening to you debase yourself.” 

“What’re you gonna do? Throw a screwdriver through my forehead like you did to that poor bastard you murdered back at the Body Shoppe?” Ric wiped the corner of his mouth and glared back. 

“That man was dead the second the Time Dancer laid one of her hands on him. She wanted me to kill him slowly. To torture him to death. I spared him the agony and her the entertainment.” 

Spiral had looked enormously annoyed by how fast Star had dispatched the helpless man. And the guy _had_ left the warrior to die after hitting him with his car rather than take responsibility and help him. People died from hit-and-runs every day and his boyfriend would have been added to that statistic if not for Spiral’s assistance. With a sigh of surrender, Ric sat up and considered the events since he’d woken up choking on regenerative gel. “She did it. Ben Russell’s completely gone, isn’t he?” 

Star’s eyes skittered to the side as he mentally searched for any sign of that rogue persona in his mind. Before, there had been a distinct presence confined to one distant spot; a heavy weight he could not discount or ignore. There was no longer that taint to his thoughts running as an undercurrent to his emotions or actions. The consciousness the Gamesmaster had forced into his brain was absent. At long last, his mind was his own again. “Yes. I believe so.” There was a hint of a smile on his lips. 

Ric only looked grim. “I see it in the way you’re acting. You’re back to being you. The way you killed that guy proved it.” 

“I’m not following your logic.” 

“It was quick and decisive. It was strategic. And it was fuckin _cold_. Russell was a prick but, at least he tempered you a little. You’re back to being the warrior I remember.” 

The Mojoworlder recoiled as if he’d been dealt a physical blow and the hurt was plain on his face as he growled: “I’d apologize for disappointing you but the feeling is mutual.” He shot Ric one lasting glare and then whirled around to return to the sofa. He laid down on it, stretching his long legs out well past the arm rest and crossing them at the ankles. Dismissing Rictor, he closed his eyes and pretended to try and get some sleep. He wasn’t fooling either of them but he was angry and nothing good ever came from him being in that state. Voluntary withdrawal was the only reasonable recourse for him to take before he went and did something he would definitely regret later. Not for the first time, he was realizing the grasp of the complexity of relationships was a fleeting thing; it was fluid and ever changing and he did not like that. He liked things that were consistent: Like the life or death struggle of combat. That, at least, made sense. 

Things were quiet for a span of time before he heard Ric moving and then sit down on the carpet beside the sofa. It was a little while longer before he felt fingers brush the long hairs out of his face. He rolled his head to the side and opened his eyes to look at him. 

Rictor was trying to smile and failing horribly at it. His voice was unsteady when he said, “I’m not disappointed in you. I... Dios, I’m sorry for what I said. All this shit would be moot if you hadn’t sent, y’know, _her_ to find me. You saved my life. Me and Adam both. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.” 

“I’m sorry for striking you,” Star admitted. “It just wounds me to hear you speak so poorly of yourself. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.” 

“Jesus, I wish I could, too.” Ric whispered. He slowly shook his head from side to side. The tears were close again but he managed to blink them back. “I don’t know if it’s from being brainwashed with Christian bullshit when I was a kid or watching my dad get executed or torture from The Right or being a punching bag for the Villain of the Week. I just know that something in me is broken.” He motioned to his head, but the gesture went far beyond that. If he wasn’t angry, he was depressed. And if he wasn’t either of those emotions, he just felt dead inside. Star brought out what little light he still possessed and somehow made it shine brighter; like a dirty copper penny scrubbed clean by a patient hand. The only times he ever felt truly happy were the moments he shared with Star. “But I’m trying to work through it, though. I really am. You’ve gotta believe me.” 

“I do believe you, Julio.” 

“I’m just... I’m messed up and this shit with my relatives has really hit me hard.” 

Star regarded him thoughtfully. “We have to finish this. As you said, it has become personal.” 

“Yeah, I know that, but... “ Ric chewed on his bottom lip. He remembered the seconds just before Spiral’s appearance. “You need to know something. It’s important. My uncles got hold of a Genoshan null collar and put it on me. The damned things are designed to blow a mutant’s head off when one gets out of line. I tried to detonate it when I got an arm lock on Jake.” 

Sitting up, the alien leaned over to look closer at him. “I’m grateful it didn’t work.” 

“Oh, it worked alright. Spi-“ 

“D’ha!” 

“ _She_ froze time somehow. Just as it was about to go off.” The Mexican looked up at him and swallowed. “I was prepared to blow me and Jake all to Hell. I was so angry at him it was all I could think of doing.” 

The alien’s eyes widened. “Julio-!” 

“It’s not a first time for me. That’s what I’m really trying to tell you. When The Right took me prisoner I was gonna commit suicide before X-Factor rescued me. I thought about it again later when looked like that was going to happen again. See, it wasn’t just you when the Gamemaster messed with your mind and you tried to off yourself back at Xavier’s mansion.* That’s why I was so pissed at you back then.” 

Star absorbed this news with his characteristic silence. After a moment, he murmured softly, “It would seem that we are both broken.” He made a vague wave to his head as Ric had done earlier, imitating him. 

Ric grabbed that hand and squeezed it. “Not when we’re together, though. It took me awhile, but I realize that now. That shit only ever happens when we’re apart. The time for the hit and run tactics we’ve been using these last three months is over. I can use my powers out in the open now and, once we get your swords back, we’re going to hit them right where it hurts.” 

“Are we going to Guadalajara?” 

Ric nodded. “It’s time to go home one last time.” He went silent after that. If they had done this right after Limon, like Star had wanted, everything would have turned out differently. It was time to get back on the right path. Too much blood had been shed to stop their mission now. “I’ll give my step-mom and half-sisters a heads-up. I kinda have to and when they’re in the clear I’m gonna raze that house to the ground.” 

Star rumbled in his chest; a sound of annoyance. “You would warn them in advance?” 

“They’re not involved in this, Star.” 

The alien pulled his hand away and stood up. He paced for a moment and finally turned and pointed a finger directly at Julio. “We had a deal in the beginning: You would dictate the rules of our relationship while I would strategize and plan the attacks. You failed on your end. We will now do this my way. That means absolutely no warning to _any_ of your kin.” 

Ric stamped over to face him directly. “They’re my family!” 

“Irrelevant. We do not know precisely who is involved with your family’s illegal activities and who isn’t.” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure Michelle and Erica aren’t trafficking any friggin guns!” 

“They’re connected to people who are. If you warn them we will lose the element of surprise. You can’t have things both ways, Rictor. Battle does not operate like that. Of the two of us, I know this to be true. There is either death or victory and I will _not_ die again!” 

Ric gripped his hair in double fistfuls and shouted in frustration. The floor vibrated beneath his feet and he willed in that power quickly before he set off a building alarm. “God damn it! I wish I’d never started this bullshit!” 

“It’s true that we have suffered setbacks-” 

 _“Setbacks?!”_  

“-But we have effectively crippled the Cartel. It’s time to finish what we started.” Star eyed Ric critically and added, “I will continue this without you if I must. You killed Martinez but Gabriel was his employer and I owe him blood for blood. Gonzalo; the same for trying to spill yours. The only one I do not know of is Hector. If he chooses surrender, I will spare his life. But his alone. You must choose sides right now.” 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Star, you know I’m with you on this fucking thing!” Ric blasted at him. “I can’t believe you’d even think otherwise. There’s no backing out for me now. My hands are covered in blood. It still doesn’t mean that everybody’s gotta go into a grave, you get me? There’s innocents caught up in this mess. There’s kids and mothers involved. This isn’t Mojoworld. You can’t kill everybody.” 

The response shouldn’t have surprised him but it did. “I will if I must.” 

Gooseflesh broke out along Ric’s arms. Cable’s warnings came back to mind and he realized the old bastard had been right. He and Star were from two different worlds and nothing would ever change that. The alien was a cold-blooded killer, born and bred, and Rictor was the only person capable of reining him in before things got completely out of hand. “Listen to me and listen good,” he said in a low voice, closing the distance between them. He clenched his fists and let them glow green in a display of power. “You wanna fight? Good. You wanna kill some lowlifes? Great. But I’ll tell you who’s off-limits and you’re gonna listen to me and spare them. If you don’t, we’re gonna have problems.” He raised a glowing fist directly into the warrior’s face. “You hear me?” 

Star glowered back at him and didn’t answer. 

 _“_ I said: _Do you hear me?!”_ Rictor shouted. 

Still silent, the alien’s light blue eyes traced all aspects of Ric’s flushed and angry face; noting the furrowed brows, the squinting eyes, and downward bow of his mouth. It was clear he was poised to fight over this line in the sand he’d drawn and defend his position no matter the cost. 

Amazingly, rather than quarrel, Shatterstar broke out into a broad smile instead. “There you are,” he said and pulled Ric in for a relieved kiss. 

Shocked, Ric struggled for a few seconds before he realized what was happening and grabbed at the material of Star’s jumpsuit with urgent fingers. When they finally parted for breath, he murmured, “I-I don’t get it. What the hell was that all about?” 

“You were doubting yourself,” the warrior told him, his words gusting softly against Ric’s cheek. “It wounds me when you do that. I wanted to be sure your ordeals with Martinez did not cripple you.” 

“Make me a coward, you mean.” There was no answer because it was clear that was what Star had been concerned about and Ric really couldn’t blame him. He had been acting and talking like he was ready to throw in the towel and maybe a part of him had been. He was still coming to terms with the death of Martinez; a scumbag and utterly unrepentant criminal, but still a human being. Rictor was many things but, before that violent action, he had never been a murderer. It had changed him, there was no denying it, so he could understand why Shatterstar might have been worried. “You asshole. I was so close to punching you.” 

“I would have let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I think you would’ve.” Ric chuckled and shook his head at the same time. 

Star ran restless fingers through the other man’s dark hair. Much in the way his partner was enamoured by his long red hair, the Mojoworlder enjoyed the look and feel of Rictor’s. “We will endure and emerge victorious, Julio. When we work together we are unstoppable. Do you remember that battle against the Sentinels in the State Park?” 

He snorted. “I remember destroying the place.” 

“Before that happened, I remember the harmonious combat. We acted as one. It was instinctive and glorious. I look forward to doing that again with you.” 

“You do, huh?” Ric powered up a little so that his hands vibrated as he ran them down Star’s body. 

The warrior rumbled at the feel of that tickling touch and smirked at him. ”And I remember what we did _after_ that battle.” He arched a ginger eyebrow. 

That was all it took. 

They stumbled over to the sofa and Star lay down while Ric clambered over him, straddling his waist and pulling the front of his jumpsuit open. He breathed in the alien’s scent and laid a hand on that bare chest, feeling the powerful beat of his heart. He appeared to be taking in the appearance of Star lying prone beneath him and his slight smile widened. 

“Julio?” Star asked as that examination lingered. 

Ric stared deeply at Star’s face and broke out into an adoring grin. “He really is gone,” he murmured. He bent down and licked at Star’s bottom lip until the warrior’s mouth opened and they kissed deeply. “I don’t know how she did it and I don’t care. Ben Russell is gone and I don’t have to share you anymore.”

To prove his point, Ric pulled the zipper straight down and followed its course.

 

* * *

Mojo V’s long, spider-like fingers were rapping an impatient staccato on the armrest of his mobile chair as he considered the individual standing beneath him who was flanked by several Imperial Protectorate. The Mojoworld ruler’s wide mouth was working furiously, as if he had tasted something particularly unpleasant. After several minutes, he raised his hand and beaconed with a slender finger. “Bring it closer.” His voice rang in the gigantic antechamber. 

The person of interest didn’t budge until he was nudged from behind by one of the armed guards. Reluctantly, he climbed the stairs until he was standing before the huge Spineless One. The yellow humanoid’s bulbous mass physically dwarfed him. The chair’s articulated legs clattered forward and Mojo reached out and let his sharp nails grab the new arrival’s face, turning it from side to side as his examination lingered. “It _looks_ like my property. Pretty face, star tattoo, red hair, physical build-” 

“Lemme go, ya fat fuck!” Ben Russell shouted, slapping that clammy hand aside. 

“The potty mouth is new,” Mojo said unhappily. He glowered at the woman standing silent beside him. “Explain,” he barked. “This is not Gaveedra 7.” 

“The body is his.” Spiral explained. “Just not his mind.” 

If Mojo were capable of blinking he might have done so, but the wires that held his eyelids open didn’t budge. “You test my patience with your riddles, Spiral. Is this thing Shatterstar or not?” 

“Standing before you is a successful clone created to harbour a presence that plagued the original. His name is Benjamin Russell.” 

“Meet’cha,” Ben muttered. He appeared entirely unimpressed with the whole situation. “Dude, no offense, but you smell like ass.” 

“I wanted the Martyr-son!” Mojo screamed. 

Spiral ducked her head in regret. “I was overwhelmed by those of the X, my lord. They took him to safety before I could spirit him to you. I was fortunate to acquire _that_ at all.” She gestured at Ben. “You are not pleased?” 

“ _No.Iamnotpleased._ ” The huge ruler hissed through a mouth full of crooked teeth. He eyed Ben warily, curious despite himself. “...What can it do?” 

Ben’s handsome face broke out into a slightly maniacal grin. “Lemme show ya, freak.” He glanced at the guards that flanked him and they winked out of sight in a soundless flash. When he focused his power at Mojo, that white light played over the creature’s sallow skin and then harmlessly dissipated. 

“Ooh, that tickles!” Mojo exclaimed with a delighted shiver. “What was that?” 

Realizing his power didn’t work, Ben muttered, “Aw crap.” 

“His mutant power is an offensive ability to jaunt objects and people.” Spiral answered plainly. 

“Where do they go?” 

“Nowhere. Everywhere.” She arched one delicate silver brow. “If you dropped your magics, perhaps you could find out.” 

“Manipulative biped. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

There was no love lost between them. “Yes, my lord.” 

Mojo absorbed that with a distracted nod, still staring at Ben. “It’s intriguing but not of any interest to the Audience. Too quick. No bloodshed. Boring. Have the Whitecoats erase it.” 

“Hey!” Ben shouted. 

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Can it fight?” 

“He possesses all of the augmented abilities of the original, just not the knowledge of how to utilize them to their potential.” 

Mojo grunted. “Nothing a psychic download can’t fix. Take it away to a service bay. Have the techs strip it, educate it, and arm it. I want it to make its grand debut tonight for Prime time.” 

“Stop calling me an ‘it’, ya asshole!” Ben raged. “I’ve got balls. You don’t!” 

“Oh, I’ve had quite enough of _you_.” Mojo flicked his pinky and Russell was knocked off his feet from a force he couldn’t see and sent flying off the stairs. He landed on the main floor, stunned. 

Spiral absorbed the scene, her face impassive. “How would you feel to him being joined with a combative partner?” She caught Mojo suspicious glare and added, “I failed to bring you Shatterstar as you ordered, my lord. I brought you a gift in compensation if you would like to see it.” 

“A present?!” He clapped his hands together with glee. “Oh, my wonderful, wicked woman. You know how to make me happy. Show me what you have immediately!” 

Watching from where he was lying, Ben saw another person being marched into the room. Before he could call out to that figure, he was spirited away to a white sterile room filled with bipeds fitted with various cybernetic enhancements. They grabbed him and strapped him down to a table as they spoke in a language that most definitely was _not_ English or anything remotely resembling an Earth language. It mimicked the sound that old computers used to make when they connected to the Internet through dial-up. 

“Oh, this ain’t cool. This ain’t cool with me at all. Lemme go!” The creatures in the lab must have been shielded from Ben’s offensive jaunt ability. His power washed over their white-garbed figures the same way it had harmlessly traced Mojo’s corpulent body. 

“I said let me go, ya fuckers!” Ben had never been a fan of doctors and this situation seemed like it had been pulled straight out of some B-rated sci-fi movie of the week. “I swear, if you try to rectal probe me I’ll shit on you.” 

The Whitecoats paused and stared at him curiously. 

“Disgusting.” One buzzed in English. 

“Aggressive.” Another responded. 

The conversation went around the room. 

“Refreshing.” 

“Arrogant.” 

“Entertaining.” 

“Unique.” That one peered at Russell closely. “Do you have a name?” 

“Benjamin Russell.” 

“Would you like to keep it?” 

“What’dya talking about?!” 

The Whitecoat gestured to the machinery being prepared for Russell’s conversion. “We are going to strip you of your power but give you invaluable training to make use of Gaveedra 7’s enhanced physiology. You will become a warrior. A primetime entertainer. The Audience will revere you, perhaps as much the original had been. I am asking you if wish to retain your unique identity.” 

For the first time for as long as Russell could remember, he was scared. “...What? Y-you mean you can take it away? My thoughts? My-my mind?” 

The creature made a motion that resembled a nod. “Slaves of Mojo are discouraged to possess individuality. They are created solely to entertain. You are an anomaly brought here by Spiral and that grants you a particular distinction. We can leave your mind as it is or wipe it clean-” 

“No!” Ben shouted. In a lower voice, he said, “No, don’t do that. Please. Listen, I-I was killed a long time ago by a guy who did it for kicks. He kept my thoughts like a bug in a jar until he put me into Star’s head. It wasn’t much, but some times it was like being my old self again. Now I’ve gotta body and this head is all mine. I want to keep it. I want to keep all of it. You wanna take my power? Fine. It’s been nothing but a pain in the ass anyway. I just-” His voice went hoarse and his bottom lip trembled when he confessed, “I just want to live.” 

“Survival will be entirely up to you.” Another creature chimed in as it lowered an apparatus that fit over Ben’s head and neck, holding him firmly in place. “But you will be permitted to keep your name, Benjamin Russell.” 

The mutant could plainly see the array of needles poised to plunge into his forehead and pierce his brain. He honestly hadn’t been this terrified since the Gamesmaster first took interest in him over twenty long years ago. Back then, he had been a homeless teenager prostituting himself to anyone with cash to scratch out his meagre existence. When he squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilled from the corners and ran down his face. “I want to live,” he whispered. “Please, oh please. I just want to be _alive_.” 

The Whitecoats resumed talking in the High Speech. 

The curved bar of needles dropped like a guillotine and slammed into Ben’s forehead. Two more probes jammed into either ear while another slipped into the base of his neck. There was no anaesthetic. Ben gave voice to a piercing scream of agony and his entire body surged against the restraints. In mere seconds, he was unconscious. 

“Now we begin,” the head of the Whitecoats said with finality. 

What followed was a blur of images and sensations. Pain was the most dominate; the agony between Ben’s ears eclipsed rational thought and made him keep his eyes shut for the rest of the day. The pain didn’t start to fade until a costume and a pair of swords were thrown inside of his kennel. 

“Suit up, gladiator.” A guard was standing outside of the barred door. His face vaguely resembled a spotted jungle cat. 

Ben looked at the objects dully for a few seconds before the implanted information kicked in: _Combat apparel – projectile resistant armor, psionic-resistant helmet, reinforced gloves. Weapons – Two great swords, one-handed tangs, D-guard with spikes for offence.  Combat protocols_ \- His head was filled with sword fighting styles and martial arts that were familiar and mimicked the background thoughts of Shatterstar’s mind that was always on the razor’s edge of combat. Now, instead of an observer to those actions, he somehow knew he could actually do them. 

He put on the clothes, all black except for a white star on his chest, and uniform pants that were two-toned black and grey. Even the sword blades were black. It was intended to be the opposite of Star’s original costume and that suited Ben just fine. He’d never been a fan of white anyway. 

When he signalled he was ready, he was led by guards to the staging area beside the closed entrance into the gladiatorial arena. He could hear the thunder of excited voices and the interior of his gloves became sticky with nervous sweat. He clasped the hilts of his weapons tighter. “Should’ve paid more attention to your fighting and less on your fucking,” he grumbled under his breath, thinking of the man he was copied from. 

“You speak... English?” A voice asked warily from a dark corner. 

Ben turned and saw another man crouched in the shadows dressed in dark blue leathers. He was holding a spear and had blades attached in various spots to his uniform. Russell recognized those eye tattoos and pointed ears and didn’t know whether to groan or cheer. He snorted instead. “Got your fool ass captured, huh? Way to go, dumbnuts.” 

The warrior looked at him in confusion. “Do we know each other?” 

“We’ve met. Kinda. I’m-” A name immediately filled in the blank. “ _Slaughterstar_. Huh. That’s cool. I never had a code name before.” 

“Slaughterstar.” The other man nodded in affirmation as he stood to his full height. “My combative partner.” He punched his left pec in recognition. “The honor is mine.” 

“Aw crap,” Ben said, moving closer to him. The blond’s hair style was different; no braids or beads, just pulled back in a simple pony tail. No earrings, either. Even the tattoos around his eyes were slightly different; as if someone (and he had a pretty good idea who) had tried to draw them from memory. “You- Uhm, do you have a name?” 

“Slaves of Mojo are discouraged to possess individuality,” the man parroted. “My arena call-sign is Warblade.” 

“Cute. You’re not a slave, though. You’re a clone. Don’t feel so bad about it cuz so am I.” Ben said bluntly. “Fact is, I know the guy you’re copied from. His name was Adam.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What was he like?” 

“Kind of a dick if you wanna know the truth.” The expression on Ben’s face softened a bit. “But if you can fight like him, I’ll be glad to work with you.” He made a respectable effort of returning the chest salute. 

Warblade offered him a strained smile. It occurred to Ben that Adam Neramani’s clone wasn’t a bad looking piece of ass. “Y’know, if we get out of this fight with our hides intact, I’d really like to... I dunno, maybe _talk_ to you some more.” 

“I would like that,” the blond responded. 

“So would I,” Ben said and he was actually sincere. It had been a damned long time since he’d had a friend. 

The gate beside them rolled up while an announcer’s voice boomed out words in the High Speech, the Gladiatorial dialect, and finally in English: _“Presenting the debut of our two newest fighters: Slaughterstar and Warblade!”_  

Ben gripped his swords and flashed his partner a broad grin. “Ready to kick some ass, buddy?” 

Warblade returned that slightly mad expression. “This is what I was made for!” 

“Y’know what? I think I was, too. Let’s go get ‘em!” 

As a pair, the two warriors ran out of the staging room and out into the arena where they were met with an explosion of cheers. Before the fighting began, Ben Russell had time to think: _I’m home. For the first time in my miserable fucking life, I’m some place where I really belong._  

There was also something else: His long-troubled soul was finally, strangely at peace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A Year in Review / Chapter 14: Freedom or Death


	19. Las Cucarachas

 

“Oaxaca de Juárez?” Rictor said incredulously. “What the hell is in Oaxaca?” 

Chief Agent Miguel Lopez stared hard across the desk at Shatterstar. “His swords. There’s an army research facility located there and they were the only ones who were brave enough to go near them considering what happened to the hotel. And to all the civilians who disappeared along with it.” His voice dropped a note when he said that and Star, despite his usual indifference when it came to dealing with humans, dropped his eyes first. 

“Fekt,” he muttered under his breath. 

Ric, seated beside him, reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, mano. I said don’t fret over it.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Lopez barked, catching the young mutant by surprise. It seemed the personable side he had always seen in the agent was now gone. “It was well-known this ATF office had a room reserved there for informants. I’m up to my neck in phone calls demanding an explanation and I don’t know what to tell them.” He paused for a beat and then demanded: “What the fuck happened?” 

To say Lopez had been shocked to see the two young men in his office when he arrived for work this morning had to be the understatement of the century. When he’d received his last report from Adam Neramani stating that Star was back to fighting form, he accepted the news with relief and was looking forward to getting on with Operation Checkerboard. He called his superior and his contacts with the DEA, including Adam’s handler, and then settled down for a relaxing evening. 

Three hours later, all of that fell to pieces. Tony Rossini called him at home just as he’d been preparing to go to bed. What followed was a jaw-dropping story about what had happened to Rictor and Star’s covert hide-out. By the time the two agents arrived at the scene, the entire block was cordoned off by La Policía and it looked like the National Guard had moved in. Sitting abandoned as the focal point of the whole affair were both of Shatterstar’s swords. 

 _Take one damn day off and the shit hits the fan_ , he brooded. Small talk with Rossini hadn’t helped to ease his mind. X-Treme had appeared at the office some time after he had sent off his report and had been told that Ric and Star were in a relationship. According to Rossini, the alien hadn’t taken the news well and Lopez doubted that Tony had minced his words on the subject of the pair’s sexuality. 

That next day, his office had caught some back-chatter on some tapped lines about some altercation at an abandoned gas station involving the Richter cartel. The cops were well paid to keep quiet but, Miguel’s partner, Felicia Brevas, had a friend on the force who said Jake Martinez and some unnamed henchmen had been killed. There weren’t many more details. By the time Lopez showed up to the site it had been razed to the ground by Gonzalo’s crew. To date, forensics had discovered a concrete room beneath the bulldozed ground. They also found some spent bullet casings, a badly dented baseball bat, and a bloody shoe. It would take them considerable time to excavate the site and try to sort out that whole mess. 

For the next two days, Rictor, Shatterstar, and X-Treme were in the wind and Lopez feared the worst. He fielded calls from his boss, from the DEA, and –the most disturbing- from an American named Dr. Valerie Cooper who identified herself to be a Special Assistant to the National Security Advisor of the NSC. The woman had been a particularly cold bitch to have to deal with and, although she didn’t come right out and say the word, it was pretty clear she was on a mutant fishing expedition. After first checking to see that her name and credentials were legitimate (they were) Lopez stalled her by passing her off to a typical bureau circle-jerk of uncooperative agents well-versed in giving the runaround and releasing terse one-liners. He figured that would stall her until he could come up with some definitive information, although he didn’t have a clue where it would come from or what information he felt he should betray. 

Rictor had made the decision before Lopez’s arrival that telling the truth of what had happened would do them absolutely no good: _Well, y’see, douche bag Adam decided to break protocol and get Shatterstar hammered. When they got into a drunken brawl, the Gamesmaster personality of Ben Russell took control of Star and fucked up his powers. He almost got him killed. Again. I got my fool ass captured by a gay taxi driver who ratted me out to Jake. Then, me and Adam got the shit beaten out us before Spiral stepped in and healed all three of us in some off-the-grid magic place called the Body Shoppe. Oh yeah, I also obliterated Martinez with a direct seismic blast that probably sent his guts all the way down to China._  

Nope. Uh uh. That wasn’t going to fly. 

“We were attacked,” Julio said simply. “Somehow our cover got blown and Jake and his goons nailed all three of us while we were in our hotel room. They had a mutant they must have hired. A teleporter. Took us and the whole damned hotel to Jake’s hide-out.” 

“My swords are not of this world. That’s why they remained at the spot where the hotel had been,” Star offered. He managed to look Lopez in the eye as he said that, but quickly became distracted by a loose seam on the armrest of his chair. 

In as neutral a voice as possible, Lopez said, “Go on.” 

Ric sniffed and slumped back in his seat, crossing his arms. “Doesn’t take much of an imagination to figure out the rest. Low brow Cartel goons against three skilled super-powered fighters? What d’you think? We wiped them out and then vamoosed. Laid low for a spell before coming back here.” 

“Jake Martinez is dead?” 

“Without a doubt. He’s, uh, let’s just say he’s pretty well buried.” There was a brief flash across Ric’s mind of Jake’s mangled remains, but he managed to push it away and hold onto his composure. 

“And Adam is okay?” 

“Yeah, he’s still kicking. Since he’s now on my uncles’ radar, too, he’s keeping a low profile. Should be in touch with you soon.” 

Lopez nodded slowly as he rifled through a stack of papers on his desk. He pulled out a slip and showed it to them. “Any particular reason why Adam’s car is in the police impound lot? It was towed away from a bar called the Titty Twister.” 

Rictor and Star remained blank-faced. 

“And I suppose you don’t know anything about a fight that happened at that particular bar the same night all three of you were _allegedly_ together in your hotel?” 

Rictor’s response was a half-assed shrug. In terms of dealing with authority figures, he had faced down larger, significantly more intimidating people than Miguel Lopez. In the grand scheme of things, the poor agent barely managed a twitch on his personal radar and, truth be told, Ric was getting damn tired of adults expecting him to bend to their will. 

Lopez’s face flushed in anger. “So, we’re going to go this route are we?” 

“Yeah, I guess so. You helped us out of a bind when we needed it, but I think it’s time we cut loose. Our cover’s blown. Hell, keeping us around would probably be just one big hassle for you right now.” He got to his feet and Star obediently did the same. “For what it’s worth, we’re sorry about what happened to the hotel.” 

Lopez mulled it over for a moment and then got up and went over to open his office door. “I guess I found out the hard way why mutants have such terrible reputations.” There was no arguing against the pair’s decision to leave and Lopez knew he didn’t have any way to stop them. Besides, Rossini had made his opinions of the “freaks” freely clear and on the record: They were better off without them. 

And, privately, he had to admit that maybe, in this case, his partner might be right. 

The agent’s condemnation stung Star’s personal sense of honor. He understood Ric wouldn’t have willingly surrendered to this agency if it hadn’t been for his welfare. The human had helped them but, in return, they had left him with nothing but grief. That did not sit well on his conscience. “B’rev Lopez, both of us owe you a debt that cannot be understated. I swear on my swords you will be repaid for your generosity.” 

“Your goddamn swords aren’t here,” Lopez shot back. He nodded his head in the direction of the exit and slammed his door shut as soon as they were clear of the room. It was clear that their partnership was over. 

Rossini and Felicia were both sitting ramrod straight at their desks with their eyes down when Star and Ric walked past to leave. Tony made the mistake of muttering, _"Pinche hotos,”_ under his breath thinking he wouldn't be heard.

He was wrong.

With a move like lightening, Star snatched a letter opener lying on a nearby desk and threw it with a flick of his wrist that almost looked casual. It pierced the back of Tony’s monitor but didn’t go through it and take his face off (more a testimony to Star’s restraint than evidence of Dell’s manufacturing). He glared at the agent as they left the building, challenging him to make a move. Rossini, although he had a hand on his automatic, wisely didn’t remove it from its holster. 

“Do I want to know what that was about?” Rictor asked once they were standing in the parking lot behind the building. 

Flashing him an irritated shake of his head, the Mojoworlder plucked at the fabric of his Body Shoppe jumper and muttered, “We need to find clothes less conspicuous.” 

The damn thing was deceptively comfortable, but it would only draw unnecessary attention. Wearing them in public was out of the question. “Yeah. Given the situation, I guess we better fall back on X-Force’s rules.” Ric sighed.

“What rules?” 

“Exactly.” 

It took a moment for that to sink in but, when it did, Star released an acknowledging grunt. Within an hour, they stole enough gear to make it through the back alleys and side streets of Morelia undetected and ended up near the police impound lot. They scrambled to the roof of the nearest building and took note of the surroundings with the expertise of skilled felons which, in all honesty, they now were. 

“I went through the paperwork on Lopez’s desk before he showed up this morning. Adam’s car is in there somewhere,” Ric explained. “No sense trying to bust it out when we can boost something in another place where we won’t get caught. All I want is the money he said he stashed under the spare tire.” 

Lying beside him on the hot tarred surface, the alien felt exposed and looked around. “Do you want to wait until nightfall?” 

“That’s a damn long wait. Hell, it’s barely nine o’clock in the morning. I really want to get this shit over with and be gone.” 

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Star carefully evaluated the impound lot. “I see X-Treme’s vehicle.” 

“Where?” 

He pointed. “I can easily jump over the fence and get to it, but it’s near a booth and I see at least one uniformed man in there.” He held up the car keys Adam had given them. “I know this shuts off the alarm and opens the trunk. I don’t know if the enforcers disable the alarms of the other cars they put in there.” He cocked a knowing eyebrow at his boyfriend. “But there are plenty parked outside of it.” 

Rictor was already smiling. “Hell, it isn’t as if earthquakes are uncommon in Mexico. Setting off the whole block should create enough of a diversion for you to get in and out. If you’re fast enough.” 

Star made an amused sound in his throat as they got to their feet. “I’m fast in matters that require it. My enduring stamina is my most revered trait.” 

Rictor huffed out laughter. “Braggart.” 

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.” With that, the alien vaulted off the roof and waited for the mutant to get into position. When he climbed down, Rictor placed his palms flat on the ground and release a localized seismic tremor. Car alarms went off, buildings were evacuated, people panicked and, in the midst of all that chaos, Star made it in and out in record time with a duffel bag of cash. They were heading Southeast out of the city in a stolen car before police in the stricken area called an all-clear. 

They drove for the day, deliberately bypassing Mexico City and the boroughs, and made camp for the night on the outskirts of Tepetlapa less than an hour away from the Oaxaca state line. There was a semblance of a town on the south side of the road and unending scrub-brush to the north. It had been overcast for most of the day and once the sun went down, thunderstorms moved in. 

Between downpours, Julio exited the vehicle to stand outside or lean back on the hood and watch the chain lightening dance across the sky. He had an empathic link to the earth and could feel the energy tingling along his skin each time a lightening bolt touched the ground, near or far. “You’re missing one hell of a light show out here, Star.” 

There was a long pause before the Mojoworlder got out from where he had been reclining in the passenger seat to sidle up beside his partner. He tried not to flinch whenever he saw a spear of lightening, but his face was set in stone and, when Ric looked over at him, saw that his eyes were fixed in a tense squint even though it was nightfall. 

“Still freaked out by earth’s weather patterns, huh?” 

“Bai,” Star admitted. He had been raised in a domed environment that had been constantly temperature controlled (a whopping 37 degrees centigrade that he considered normal) and the environments he encountered when he had run with the Cadre had been either arid or boggy. He had never seen snow before coming to earth (and he didn’t care much for it, if the truth be told), and viewed this planet’s ever-constant changing weather patterns with clear disdain and a mystifying degree of paranoia. It was one of the reasons why he had enjoyed their Camp Verde base in Arizona so much. “The lightening is particularly unnerving to me. Mojo used magick similar to it to search terrain and pick off members of the Cadre.” 

Julio wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “He’s not here. Relax.” 

“I cannot. The Time Dancer is bad enough, but Mojo could be anywhere. Anywhen. I’ll never be free of him.” As if to punctuate his words, a lightening bolt hit the earth less than 100 yards from them. It and the immediate crack of thunder was enough to make Star retreat to the safety of the car, dragging Ric along with him over his protests. 

“For cryin' out loud! It’s just a stupid storm! You seen them before.” 

Settling into the passenger seat, Star warily eyed the sky through the windshield. “Do you trust me?” 

“You know I do.” 

He opened one of the back doors and glared at him. “Then get inside the car.” 

There were no arguments after that. In a short time, Ric fell asleep in the back seat. During his tenures with X-Factor, the New Mutants, Department K, X-Force, and, finally, his solo jaunts around Mexico these last four months; he’d learned to fall asleep in practically any place and time at a moment’s notice. In comparison to some of the spots he’d had to rest his head, the backseat of a stolen Chrysler was a rare comfort. 

Star had learned the similar art of catnapping during his time in Mojoworld, but once on earth he seemed to have lost that ability. Too often, he relied on his healing factor to compensate for the sheer exhaustion associated with being hyper-vigilant. X-Force had been bad with all of Cable’s unpredictable enemies popping out at the most inopportune times and places. In many ways, Mexico was worse. He knew his growing affection to Julio was to blame for that. On his world, slaves had been discouraged to possess attachments. It wasn’t until the two of them got to this country that he finally understood why: He was compromised by his love for Ric and it made him a potential target. 

He didn’t like having that vulnerability. 

He weighed the issue back and forth for the rest of the night. It wasn’t until pre-dawn and the skies had cleared when he quietly exited the vehicle and walked over to a bush to urinate. 

He had barely finished the act when a spear of lightening hit the ground less than a foot from his feet, setting the bush on fire. There was no following crack of thunder. Everything was eerily silent. Star felt the hairs on his arms and along the back of his neck prickle and rise, but he refused to bolt. He stared hard at the burning bush. “I will never surrender to you,” he whispered. “Strike me in the back if you dare, coward.” 

He spun around on his heel and boldly returned to the car, bracing himself for the eldritch killing blow that never came. Silent and vigilant, he sat ramrod straight in his seat until Rictor woke up and they resumed their travel across the state line and into Oaxaca. He never mentioned what happened and, much later, realized that might have been a valuable tactical error. 

 

* * *

 

By early afternoon, the pair were lying on their stomachs again, this time on the dirt and high on a ridge obscured by scrub brush as they looked over at a distant concrete building that had a few outbuildings clustered around it. Every once in awhile, a person dressed in green was seen on patrol or a jeep drove around the paved lot, but aside from that it was noticeably barren. 

Ric dropped the binoculars he was holding and wiped the sweat from his face with the bandanna looped around his neck. “For a military base, that’s gotta be the most poorly staffed one I’ve ever seen. You sure your swords are in there?” 

Star’s empathic link to his swords was the only way they could have possibly found the place. The installation wasn’t on any of their maps and the road had been a well disguised dirt trail they had driven by until the alien sensed his weapons were suddenly becoming further away from him. 

At his companion’s words, he extended his hands and a line appeared between his red eyebrows as he concentrated hard. He could summon them if they weren’t restrained, but he shook his head after a moment of trying. “They must be securely locked down.” 

Rictor didn’t look surprised. “Guess we’re breaking in, then.” 

“Guess so.” The alien looked defeated. “I’m sorry, Julio.” 

The Mexican betrayed a surprised blink in his direction. “What the hell for?” 

“Less than a day ago, we were poised to hit your home city and end this drama once and for all. Now, we are- as you humans say- far off the grid. I could have used serviceable replacements until we were done and _then_ we could have come here-” 

Ric cut him off. “Those swords are yours, Gav. They’re tied to your power. I couldn’t imagine being cut off from mine.” He stressed the point by cocking his thumb and finger and firing at a scorpion that was scuttling towards them. “They were a huge pain in the ass when they first developed. Ain’t gonna lie. I thought they were the biggest curse God could ever give to a kid. Now, I can’t imagine living without them.” He looked intently at Star. “You’ve been using weapons since you could walk. Those swords are just as much a part of you as my power is to me. Being separated from them is out of the question.” 

Star passed him a relieved smile. “You do understand.” 

“Of course I do, mano.” It was all true, but the real motivation of Ric’s desire to travel as far away from Guadalajara as possible was a simple one and yet it was similarly tied to his boyfriend’s weapons: It was the grim certainty that Star was prepared to gut anybody associated with Ric’s uncles and Julio didn’t want to see his half-sisters, Erica and Michelle, get their heads cut off if they got in the Mojoworlder’s way. For that matter, his less-than-affectionate stepmother, Frieda, either. He was trying to come up with a strategic reach-around that would handle his uncles and henchmen and keep the body-count as low as possible. This side trip was as convenient an excuse as any to give him that time. 

At moments like this came Cable’s questions from four months ago: _“How far are you willing to let him go? How do you expect to keep him on a leash?”_  

And what came back was the memory of how easily Star had killed the motorist who had hit him with his car: A screwdriver through the forehead. No hesitation. No emotion. Tony Rossini had somehow set him off in the ATF office and the knee-jerk reaction had been the same. Maybe the fact that the letter opener _hadn’t_ gone through the monitor had simply been a fluke. Rictor wasn’t entirely sure anymore. Star had undergone two major transformations in a fairly short period of time and there was no telling how stable his mindset was right now with any certainty. Suppressing his unease, Ric compulsively gripped his hand. “We’re okay, right?” 

“Are we?” 

Wounded, Ric pulled his hand back. “The fuck ...?” 

Star’s expression was solemn beneath the shade of the visor of the baseball cap he was wearing. “You have not complained once about this detour, Julio. Not once. I know how much you hate waiting. It was one among many traits that attracted me to you: Impatience. Quick to action. A desire for battle. Where are those traits now?” 

Ric’s features were already flushed from the mid-day heat but, if anything he turned almost purple. He should have realized that he wasn’t the only one not speculative about his partner’s motivations. 

He tried to stammer out a response and Star continued with, “You have killed. Despite assurances to the contrary, you haven’t shaken off what you did to Martinez. We are this far from Guadalajara because that is how you want it.” 

“For guy who claims he doesn’t understand humans, you sure know how I tick,” the Mexican grumbled. 

The answer was simple and brutally to the point. “How could I not?” 

“Dude. Look, you need your swords-” 

He was cut off by a rude word in Cadre. “That is a convenient excuse we are _both_ hiding behind. I know the truth of why we are both here.” 

Steeling himself, Ric asked warily, “And what’s that?” 

“You don’t want me to see me kill and I am scared of dying again.” 

Rictor had no words. As usual, the alien was right and there was no dancing around it. He dropped his eyes and laid a gentle hand on the back of Star’s neck, drawing it back with a hiss. The skin there was burnt lobster red. The alien had his trademark ponytail pulled out of the hole in the back of his cap and it left his neck exposed to the sun. The Mojoworlder had a bad tendency to burn, healing factor notwithstanding, and his pale skin bore the brunt of it despite tanning lotion. “Shit! I could cook an egg on you, amigo. Let’s go back into the car and wait things out. We’ll break into the building when night drops.” 

The alien eyed him curiously. “Another stalling technique?” 

Julio’s honest response was, “No. Having you drop from sunstroke won’t help us any.” 

“I would not succumb to something so mundane as that.” He got to his feet, but wavered in place for a moment before following his boyfriend back to the car. 

Rictor caught the falter. “You okay?” 

There was no snappy comeback. Star was exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, and- “I miss my swords.” He didn’t mean for it to sound as whiny as it did, but it couldn’t be helped.  He’d been armed since emerging from the Source and the small jackknife in his pocket was absolutely no compensation for the loss. He changed the painful subject over to the mission instead. “Gabriel and Gonzalo control the states to the north of us. What of Hector?” 

The youngest of the three crime lords was largely an unknown. 

“Oaxaca is disputed territory far as I know,” Ric told him. “My uncles control only a few of the northern states, but not all of them. Hate to tell you this but the Richter’s aren’t the only players in the whole Cartel business. There’s La Familia Michoacana, Los Zentas, Pacifico Sur ... Hell, there’s always new assholes popping up.” 

The rigid set of Star’s shoulders dropped a bit. “So, even with the elimination of your family, there will be another corrupt entity to fill the void.” 

“Yeah. That’s Mexico for you.” 

“We may end up staying here for some time.” 

Rictor looked hard at him. “I’m not interested in setting up shop to become some friggin’ vigilante against big-time crime syndicates, Star. This is personal business. Once we’re done shutting my family down, we are _done_.” 

“And then what?” 

Flummoxed, his partner didn’t have an answer. 

“Return to the Hue-Ass-of-Eh?” The Mojoworlder pressed, starting to get agitated. “X-Force has disbanded. You would have us return to the fold of the other mutants of the X? I was not impressed by their tactics or associations even before we left. I highly doubt circumstances for them have improved since our absence.” 

“I thought you worshiped the X-Men.” 

They were beside the car now and Star hunkered down into the shade of the vehicle trying to make the act look casual. He grabbed a jug of water and drained half of it, wiping his mouth as he collected his thoughts on the matter. “As with all legends met in the flesh, the reverence wears off quickly. I bear no allegiance to them and have no desire to do so.” 

Ric was looking down at him in bewilderment. “What does that mean? You wanna stay down here?” 

“Yes.” 

Ric tried to process this. Really, he did. He blinked hard. Twice. “You’ve been shot and tortured and fucking _died_ , man. And you want to _stay_ in this shithole?” 

“Yes,” Star said again, and added in a softer voice, “As long as you are with me.” 

Silence filled that proclamation. It was the goddamn state park all over again, Ric realized. Star’s inexhaustible loyalty to him when every other single person in Julio’s young life had abandoned him in one fashion or another. Not for the first time, he wondered what he’d done to deserve the alien’s unwavering devotion. He only knew, deep down, that he didn’t deserve it. 

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Ric broke the stalemate and shook his head. “I’m not staying in Mexico, Star. I can tell you that much.” 

Star craned his head up to look at him curiously. “Where will we go?” 

The Mexican opened his mouth, closed it, and then repeated the action again before shaking his head in exasperation. “I don’t know! Okay? But it sure as fuck ain’t gonna be here!” 

“But, Ric-” 

“Drop it. Now’s not the time.” He got in behind the wheel and started the car, cranking up the air conditioning. “Let’s go find some place cooler to lay low for the day. We’ll grab some food and wait things out ‘til it gets dark.” 

Star _was_ hungry, but he stubbornly remained where he was. “If you will not discuss the issue now, then when?” 

 _“Later,”_ Ric ground out from between clenched teeth. “Just... Get in the damned car and let’s vamoose.” 

The city and municipality of Oaxaca de Juárez, or simply Oaxaca, was the capital and largest city of the Mexican state of the same name. It was located in the Central Valleys region of the state, on the foothills of the Sierra Madre at the base of the Cerro del Fortín extending to the banks of the Atoyac River. In Rictor’s opinion, it was one of the most beautiful cities he’d seen and, between their criss-crossing back and forth across the country chasing after his scattered relatives, they had seen more than their fair share of townships. 

Oaxaca was an easy place to get lost in because of the heavy tourist traffic. Ric blended in as a native and Star, dressed in earth casuals, along with the cap and a pair of sunglasses to hide the star tattoo around his left eye, didn’t stand out like a sore thumb as he usually did. They stopped at a roadside diner, gassed up the car and then went inside. No one paid them more than a casual glance reserved for passers-by that was the restaurant’s usual clientele and that was just how the two young men liked it. 

Star was largely cruising along on auto-pilot at this point until the waitress settled their orders down in front of them. He visibly perked up at the sight of chicken machaca with a side of tamales and immediately began eating. Ric, with his simple order of taquitos, passed him a small smile before digging in. They were between customary rush-hours and remained undisturbed until two trucks full of locals pulled up and the nine young men barged in, catcalling the obviously familiar waitstaff and settling into two booths behind them. They started calling for cervezas and tequila despite the early hour and Ric knew that was the signal it was time to leave. He started beckoning for the check even before either had finished their meals. Star looked particularly unnerved, probably because he had seen freshly-made cajeta-filled cupcakes on the counter and had hoped to score a few. 

“We’ll get some on our way out,” Ric murmured, sensing his boyfriend’s growing agitation. 

“Fekting humans,” Star growled under his breath, passing the group an irritated glance. 

That was all it took. 

“¡¿Qué pedo, pendejo!?” One of the guys who probably wasn’t any older than they were stood up and gestured at him. “¿Cuál es el problema?” 

“Yeah! He wants to know what’s your problem, fucker?” One of the other’s sneered at him, just in case Star didn’t understand the language. 

Star grabbed for the knife on the right side of his plate and Rictor lunged across the table and slapped his hand down on top of it. “Knock it off,” he hissed. “They’re just baiting you.” 

The Mojoworlder easily pulled free and was out of his seat; a six-foot-three towering mass of muscle and fury. He blasted back at the man in flawless Spanish: _"Sit your fekting ass back in that fekting seat and shut up your fekting mouth or I’m going to go over there and slice your fekting lips off!”_  

Total silence followed, except for a distant crash of a plate being dropped in the kitchen. It could have been the size difference (the standing punk was almost a foot shorter), it could have been the knife in Star’s hand. Thinking about it later, Ric reasoned it was probably the T-shirt the alien was wearing. It was jet black with the logo of the Punisher on the front. Whatever the case, the loudmouth swallowed and started babbling, “Me late. Me late. No hay problema. No me importa. Está bien. ¿Bueno?”

  
“Bueno,” Star rumbled and eyed him until the youth slid back into his spot in the booth. The Mojoworlder started turning around to do the same when Ric called out: “Star! Watch your six!”

One of the gang members, and by now there was no doubt that was what they were, pulled a gun out of the waistband of his low-hung jeans and raised it over the backrest of the booth. Star threw the knife just as Ric shot out a hand and used his powers; actions as instinctual to each of them just as breathing was for a normal human. 

Star’s common diner knife was cheap and unbalanced and didn’t hit where he was aiming. He clipped the lobe off of the punk’s right ear just as the pistol went off. It met the force wave of Rictor’s power release and went high into the ceiling. Immediately following that, the back of the restaurant was completely blown out. It sent the nine men tumbling out into the parking lot amid the clutter of busted glass, plastic, wood, and plaster. 

“Fuck. Did it again,” Ric muttered under his breath, trying to rein in control. Every time Star was in danger, he over-compensated. He felt the earth respond to his panic and it was trying to twist the bedrock beneath the building and bring the whole structure down around his and everyone’s ears. He had to place a hand on the tile floor and coax it to back off. 

Barely sparing him a backwards glance, Star charged through the new exit and leapt onto the punk who was blearily trying to remain conscious. Most of the others were injured, but another saw him coming and was fumbling with his own gun. Catching sight of it, Shatterstar whirled on him and broke his wrist, wrenching the cheap nickel-plated revolver out of his hand and brandishing it in his face. _“Where did you get this?”_ He shouted in the Mexican’s face. 

Dazed by shock and pain, the man started gasping out, “¿Qué-?” before Star gripped that broken wrist and wrenched it around until it was almost 180°. The man screamed in a spiraling, growing pitch that was rudely cut off by a punch that flattened his nose. 

Star threw off his sunglasses and leaned into the man’s terrified face. _“I want names. Now!”_  

When the restaurant stopped rocking, Rictor blindly pulled a handful of pesos from his pocket and slapped them down on the table as he hurried outside to give back-up. He was by his partner’s side in time to hear the punk babble out: _“-that’s all I know! The Extasis titty bar! That’s where he sells ‘em!”_  

“Who sells what?” Rictor asked in confusion. 

Star looked up at him, his left eye glowing. “Ramon Richter. He sold guns to this pathetic group.” 

So, his relatives _were_ making in-roads this far south. Ric cursed and grabbed double handfuls of the punk’s ripped wife-beater, giving him a tooth-rattling seismic shake. _“Details, asshole! Where’s the fuck is The Extasis?”_  

By the time the first police cruiser showed up to the demolished restaurant, the mutants were long gone, keeping to the back roads of Oaxaca’s poor side of the city. Star was navigating, reading the road map they had gotten from the restaurant’s adjoining service station before things went sideways. 

The Extasis was a sad-little strip bar tucked in behind the back of a bunch of service stations, taco shops and restaurants. That was fortunate because, as the pair staked out the place, they bought two pizzas and spent the day spelling each other between naps and snacking as they watched the odd person come and go. There was little small talk between them. Rictor was brooding over his loss of control at the restaurant and how his relatives seemed to be like _las cucarachas:_ Stamp one out and three more took their place. Star was preoccupied with the prospect of going into battle without his swords. He was torn between demanding they go back to the military installation to retrieve them first or seeing this original mission through. By the time night fell, neither had reached a personal resolution to their mental struggles. 

The bar opened late, as its type usually did. Rictor insisted on taking point and that did not sit well with Shatterstar. _At all._ He had bought another jack knife and the weapons felt small and ineffectual in his too large hands. He realized that he was actually anxious about this clandestine operation and had no explanation why he was feeling this way. As a result, he was distant and preoccupied and not even remotely focused. Rictor wasn’t in any better state. 

A senior mutant, Cable or Domino perhaps or any of the X-Men, could have told them that feeling like this was absolutely normal. The pair were in a relationship and had faced traumatic personal losses and set-backs for the first time in their solo endeavors. Such events played havoc on a person’s self-confidence at the best of times. The burden of being a mutant with a conscience just added more to the crippling stress. At this point, they had each reached the mindset that they didn’t want to see their loved one get hurt and that hampered their effectiveness. In a group environment, they would have had support. Here, they were on their own and were starting to seriously flounder with the burden. 

It was small surprise then, that when they broke into the club’s back room they were immediately ambushed. Gunfire separated them and the gas canister that cracked open beside Rictor was some obviously tailor-made concoction that knocked him out before could use his powers. His last thought before unconsciousness was, _-Trap! Gave us a name and a place and knew we would-_  

Star saw him go down but figured he could fight off the effects of the gas long enough to get them both out. Another canister blasted into the smoky, dimly-lit room and contained an apparatus that wrapped around his head, forcing him to breathe in the gas. As he clawed at it, what crossed his mind was movie-based: The image of the parasitoid face-hugger creature from Aliens along with the thought: - _Not again!_ before he slumped to the floor. 

The two laid there for some time as the gas was sucked out through a ceiling vent. Eventually, a new figure appeared and leaned in the doorway to gloat. After a moment to evaluate the situation, he finally passed a casual thumb’s up to Hector Richter, who was standing behind him with several armed men. 

“Told’ja they’d be no problem,” Arcade said with a smirk.


End file.
